Campus Visit
by bandtogetherandfight
Summary: They're both trying to escape Ohio. What happens when Rachel and Jesse randomly run into each other at NYU and Jesse has to show Rachel the ropes?
1. Chapter 1

_**Thanks for all the amazing reviews for Head Over Feet! This is the most positive feedback that I have ever received for a story I've written. It's based on a relationship I once had with a friend who eventually became something more, and I love that so many of you can relate to it as well!**_

_**I've realized after many failed attempts at writing the second chapter of Head Over Feet that I am more of a one-shot writer. Campus Visit will be my first official attempt at a multi-chapter story. **_

_**What I think I've decided to do with Head Over Feet is to post another one-shot that will serve as sort of a sequel to the story, though it will be able to stand on its own. **_

_**Here's the teaser: **_

_**Nationals is in New York this year and Rachel thinks it's the perfect opportunity to sneak away to see Jesse (who is going to NYU and not UCLA). She explains to Mr. Shue and the rest of New Directions that she is going to be staying with a family friend while the glee club is in the city. What happens when there is a freak storm, the glee club needs a place to stay, and Rachel's family friend cover is blown? Fun times. **_

**Campus Visit. **

RACHEL

In late January, Rachel is sitting in the NYU Admissions Office, holding her portfolio in her hand. She's dressed the part of the college student in her green plaid skirt, matching sweater and knee-high boots. The really nice admissions counselor, Allie, is explaining the overnight stay program to her. It's a new program for high school juniors who have expressed interest in attending NYU after graduation. Rachel heard about the program through a local college fair back in October, and had decided to apply immediately. NYU, and more specifically Tisch, has been her dream school since she could remember. She and five others had been selected from among hundreds of candidates to attend a 4-day long program that would introduce them to all that NYU had to offer.

Unfortunately, Rachel had had to give up her spot because Invitationals had been scheduled for that weekend, and New Directions had thrown a collective temper tantrum when she had broached the subject of missing the performance. As reluctant as they were to accept her generally, when performances drew near, she was indispensable. As selfish as she knew they were being, she craved their recognition and acknowledgement of her talent as much as she craved winning. When she had called up the NYU Dean of Admissions to explain why she couldn't make it to the program, he had lauded her dedication to her team (she didn't explain that her dedication was mostly to her co-captain boyfriend) and offered to host her on another weekend. Obviously, he couldn't replicate the junior admissions program for her alone, but Rachel would get a taste of NYU-life nonetheless.

All the details were set and now she was there. They had paid for her flight, and arranged for a sophomore theater major from Kentucky to host her in her dorm room. She would attend classes, eat in the dining halls, and basically become an NYU student for two days.

Allie was explaining that Rachel's host, Brenda, was in classes all day, so she would get one of her favorite freshmen to give Rachel the introductory tour, and take her to dinner before leaving her with Brenda later that night. Rachel nodded agreeably. This way she would meet more young women who obviously shared her goals and dreams. As Allie was speaking, she was handing Rachel maps and brochures, animatedly walking around her office while asking Rachel if she had any questions, without actually giving her any time to pose any.

As Allie spoke, Rachel snuck glances through her window at the small campus quadrangle that lay beneath them. She couldn't wait to get out there and explore! She heard a knock on Allie's door and knew it was her guide. Allie gestured over Rachel's shoulder, signaling that whoever was at the door should come in.

Rachel turns her head, eager to meet the person who will introduce her to her future, and she comes face to face with Jesse St. James.

What the fuck is he doing here?

JESSE

Jesse biked to the NYU Admissions Office on the cool, brisk January afternoon. One of the admissions counselors, Allie, had emailed him earlier about a favor that she needed. She hadn't given him any more details, just asked him to show up at her office around 3:30pm that Thursday afternoon.

Allie was the reason he was at NYU in the first place. Around graduation, after the debacle with Rachel, winning at Regionals and then at Nationals, he had experienced a sort of identity crisis. Whereas the previous year he had been thrilled to attend UCLA on a full scholarship, he realized that New York was where he really wanted to be. That was where Broadway was, obviously, and the glitz and glamour of LA didn't appeal to him as much as the hard work and immediate gratification of live performances. He had been accepted to NYU, and into the arts program there, but he had chosen UCLA because of the full ride it offered and because his rich father was unwilling to foot the bill for Jesse's dreams.

What followed this last-minute realization was a series of phone calls to Allie, who had the misfortune of being the admissions officer on phone duty on a late July day when most of the incoming freshmen had already been confirmed. Jesse had uncharacteristically poured his heart out to her on the phone, explaining his childhood dreams, the scholarship at UCLA, and his desire to be at NYU. Diplomatically, she had not promised him anything that day on the phone, but he was sure that she had gone up to bat for him. After the most harrowing three days of his life, she had called to say he had regained a place at NYU, with a half scholarship to boot.

Further sucking up his pride, he had called his father about footing the rest of the bill, plus living expenses. It had been the most they had spoken in the last five years. Finally, after Jesse had agreed to major in Economics in addition to Theater, his father had agreed to pay the rest of the tuition and give him a living stipend. Vincent St. James believed that at least at NYU, Jesse's failed attempts at stardom might push him towards Wall Street.

That weeklong period had been the most humbling experience of Jesse's life. He had never wanted something out of reach so badly, with no way of getting it for himself. He knew that majoring in Econ in addition to Theater was going to be difficult, but he felt like it was worth it, like NYU was the only correct decision he had made in a long while.

He also savored the certain anonymity that this late change to NYU would provide. Most people back in Ohio, many of whom he had no intention of speaking to ever again, thought he was going to LA for the next four years. New York promised him a fresh start, in so many ways. Quietly, in mid-August, he had packed up all his stuff, digitized his CD collection and sheet music, and hopped on a bus to Manhattan.

He owed Allie quite a lot, and he was glad that she had finally taken him up on the offer to repay her. He couldn't imagine what it was she had in mind, but he was aware that his numerous offers of repayment in the past semester had included babysitting her 15-month old son, Lex, and bringing her chocolate everyday from the deli across the street.

When he walks into Allie's office and sees Rachel Berry sitting there, he wonders how it was that he had gone through so much trouble to escape, and yet, somehow she had still managed to find him.

_**Next – Allie's point of view and Jesse's grand tour of NYU!**_


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Allie doesn't miss the shocked looks that Rachel and Jesse direct at each other when Jesse walks into her office. Obviously they know each other, and Allie wonders why she hadn't considered this before. The pair seems to be a perfect match on paper. Both from Ohio, even if Jesse is from the big city and Rachel was from a small town called Lima. Both interested in musical theater, both in their school's glee club, both with excellent grades. Maybe she is too jaded from living in a city where she doesn't even know her neighbors, or maybe Ohio really is that small.

Allie puts a smile on her face. "Hey, Jesse! Jesse St. James meet Rachel Berry, fellow Ohioan and future NYU student. Rachel, meet Jesse."

"Hello, Rachel," Jesse answers confidently. He glances at her and smiles, then he drops his eyes and continues, "Long time no see."

"You two already know each other?" Allie phrases it as a question, but the answer is glaringly obvious, especially since Rachel has yet to look directly at either of them. Allie feels like she's on an episode of some teenage soap opera. There's been some heartbreak here. Jesse's sweet, but she can too easily see him as a player in high school.

Something about this boy over the phone had undermined her better judgment and convinced her to go to the Dean of Admissions himself to plead Jesse's case. She would never admit it, but leaving the Dean's office with a fresh admission offer and a half scholarship for Jesse has been the highlight of her professional career so far. She owes some of her newfound self-confidence to this 18-year-old kid.

"We were in rival glee cubs back in Ohio," Rachel finally says. "They won Nationals four times." She's still not looking at either of them.

Allie's mind dwells on the word 'rival' because there is obviously so much more. She looks to Jesse for an answer as to how to proceed. He's no help because he seems completely detached from the awkward silence that has descended on her office. Allie is pretty sure that he is reading the posters behind her desk.

"Oh."

Allie has no idea what she had meant to say after that dignified response. It's a little late to find Rachel a new tour guide, and Allie was asked to organize her visit as a special favor to the Dean. She also doesn't want to be unfair to Jesse who's already here, having given up his Thursday afternoon because she asked him to.

"If you prefer, Rachel, I can have someone else give you the tour, if you're feeling uncomfortable." When she sees Rachel flinch, she thinks that uncomfortable may have been the wrong choice of word. Regardless, it seems to fix the problem.

"No, I'm not uncomfortable. I just didn't expect… I'm sure Jesse will be an excellent tour guide." Rachel attempts a small smile for her benefit.

Both women are now looking at Jesse, and Allie gets the impression that his detachment was all an act and he is intensely focused on every aspect of the exchange, intensely focused on Rachel.

He smiles. "Okay, then. Let's get going, Rachel. There's a lot I'm sure you want to see." Allie feels the urge to smack him for sounding so self-assured again, especially when this girl is anything but.

Jesse reaches for Rachel's hand and pulls her lightly out of her chair. Then he turns and reaches for the handle of the pink rolling bag by the door.

"I have a locker we can leave this in for the afternoon."

Allie gives Rachel a piece of paper with her cell number ("Call in case of anything") and explains to her that her overnight host will meet her at dinner at the main dining hall at 7 tonight.

"Make sure she gets there on time," she instructs Jesse.

When the two kids leave and the door shuts behind them, Allie says a quick prayer, praying to various deities that she hasn't just made the mistake of her career.


	3. Chapter 3

_**Two chapters in one day! Sorry about the delays in updating but school has been keeping me really busy, though I did have two hours to write today. I have big plans for this story so hopefully you will bear with me!**_

Chapter 3

If there is any indication that her therapy is working, Rachel thinks, it is the fact that she just deferred to place and time. No way could she have made a scene in the NYU admissions office when she's not officially in the school yet. She makes a mental note of the rant she wants to unleash on Dr. Grey once she gets back to Ohio. Her ex-boyfriend, who she thought was in California, had just become her tour guide to her dream school.

She really hadn't imagined that she would see him again so soon after their relationship ended, and she is completely unprepared. She hates being unprepared for anything, but especially dramatic conversations. She prefers tailored scripts or performances: the perfect song, lots of irony, or perfectly measured out bits of sarcasm. She thought she had years to prepare for this particular scene.

But, here she is, standing in the narrowest elevator she's ever been in, leaving the only safe harbor she has in this city, with Jesse St. James as her protector. She has a total of almost four hours to spend with him before she has another escape.

It irritates her more than anything that he is acting as if nothing is wrong, that her presence doesn't bother or surprise him in the least. It's his show face; one she knows well, in all its incarnations. He seemingly is viewing this encounter or tour or whatever the hell this twilight zone is she walked into as an extension of the performance that was their entire relationship. No more, she determines. It's not fair that he gets to do this again.

So, when he pulls open the door for her and follows her out to the fall-hued quadrangle she had seen from Allie's office, she decides that it's the time and place for them to have it out.

Before she can open her mouth to draw his attention to her, he pulls her bag over to an empty bench, leans it against the arm and sits down. He drapes his left arm across the back of the bench and uses his fist to support his chin. He's looking at her as if he can read her mind. He doesn't say anything because he is waiting for her to speak.

She takes her cue.

"What are you doing here? Was your full ride to UCLA another one of your lies? Just to get me to like you and trust you? To be impressed by you? Seriously, Jesse. Was there anything you told me that was the truth?" She has more questions, but those seem to cover the basics.

She's not being particularly quiet, but there aren't that many people around due to the cold, and she likes this vantage point because she's taller than him and he's looking up at her.

It takes him a while to answer.

"I transferred here late in the summer. I turned down UCLA because I wanted to be in New York, near Broadway. Allie helped me a lot with the details. Not many people back home know, and I didn't think you would care to know."

He looks like he's about to say something else, but thinks better of it. She chooses to ignore the fact that he hasn't exactly answered a good number of her questions. She still wants to know the extent of all his lies.

Some of them she has figured out on her own. Some of them were glaringly obvious once he cracked the egg on her forehead. And some of them, she goes back and forth on, trying to convince herself they were actually lies.

She doesn't understand how he could have lied about the way he felt about her when he had been able to finish her sentences, or when sometimes they both had glanced up at the same time during glee rehearsal to share a secret smile, even from across the room. She doesn't understand how he could have faked the more intimate parts of their relationship: the kisses that went on for hours, or the entire Saturday they had spent in his bed, reading parts of their favorite books to each other and listening to music, even though she had the felt the hard, physical evidence that he had wanted to do so much more. On the days she isn't being overly cynical, she can't manage to convince herself that it had all been a lie.

But how does she get answers to any of this from him? She feels the momentum in her drain and her first instinct is to lash out and hurt him.

"I wouldn't have cared. Finn and I started dating right after Regionals and I haven't thought about you much." She pauses to judge the impact of her words on him. Maybe its wishful thinking, but she thinks he seems wounded by what she's said.

"I just wish I had some forewarning that you were going to be my tour guide, I've been waiting for this a long time and I don't want anything to ruin it," she finishes lamely, and she hears just how unconvincing her explanation is because her volume has dropped significantly.

He nods at her, and mumbles out a "Sorry," but she's not exactly sure what he's apologizing for.

"So, what's on the tour? I want to see everything and we only have a few hours," she tries to put some excitement in her voice and starts fumbling with the map in her hands.

"Um, well. I guess I'll take you by the main quad and all the classroom buildings there. But I think you'll be most interested in the theater department. The stage is incredible … and they have these private music rooms with every instrument imaginable… and there is this corner of the 4th floor that has amazing acoustics that you'll want to try out, especially since you want to be Evita … and the music library. Plus there's this really cool basement café that I know you will love because they have a really good vegan selection and they're pretty cheap. The atmosphere and the music are really cool too. They have a baby grand in the corner for impromptu performances and John Legend performed there once." The passion increases in his voice as he speaks, and she can tell that he's thought about this, about what he wants to show her.

She suppresses a smile because many of those things are circled in gold Sharpie on the NYU prospective student guide that's in her bag. She had hoped that she was going to be shown around by someone who would be willing to indulge her need to see it all. But she won't let on how much he's pleased her.

"Okay. That sounds fine."


	4. Chapter 4

_**I don't go to NYU and I have never been to the campus – sorry about that. Maybe I should change the description of this fic to include Angst, I never thought there would be this much. **_

Chapter 4

Jesse couldn't help but notice how cautious Rachel was around him. He knew he had hurt her, and hurt her badly, but he still associated her with drama and personality way beyond her small size, not with this new reserved person she seemed to be.

Looking at her now, he tried to figure out if this was the same Rachel that had brought an audience in freaking Ohio to its feet with her (still somewhat flawed) rendition of Don't Rain on My Parade. Could that be the same girl as the one he now had to encourage to pick up the Tibetan lute in the music room and pluck out a tune? Or the girl he had to convince to start singing in the archway that was deemed to have the best acoustics in Manhattan?

Where in the world was Rachel Berry? She was definitely not here with him at NYU. He couldn't help but feel disappointed and maybe a bit responsible. Part of him wished that 7pm would come quickly and he could leave her with someone else. After this lame afternoon, maybe he could finally admit that he had idealized their relationship and that she meant nothing to him now. Maybe he hadn't really felt anything for her ever.

After they had spent half an hour in the music library browsing, he was glad to see that it was nearing 6pm. He went over to where he had last seen Rachel – the biography section – and asked her if she wanted to go to the basement café to get some hot chocolate before dinner. She was holding an Edith Piaf biography and even while he was talking to her, she was still flipping through the pages.

"I can check that out for you if you want to read it over the next couple of days," he offered.

"No thanks, but hot chocolate sounds good."

See, this was another thing. When did Rachel speak in eight word sentences and when was she so god damned polite? Being around her felt like pulling teeth and it made him frustrated. This wasn't how this was supposed to go. They were all music and drama, not awkward silences or light conversation.

"Look Rachel, I know this isn't an ideal situation for you. Its almost 6 and you have to meet your host at 7. I don't want to bother you anymore. I can give you directions to the dining hall and I'll leave you alone after I take you to the café."

He thought he saw a flash of the Rachel Berry he remembered when she responded, "What did I do? You're the one that hasn't even looked at me this whole time, ever since the bench."

"What? I gave you a great tour. I really thought you would like the stuff I had to show you, the old Rachel would have eaten this up."

She looked flabbergasted. "The old Rachel? What's that supposed to mean?"

"The Rachel who was so excited about everything. The Rachel for whom NYU was step one in her plan to be a famous star. You signed your name in at the visitor's log at the library and you didn't put a star beside it. Are you telling me that you haven't changed?"

"You broke an egg on the head of the _old_ Rachel," she snarled. "You expect me to what? To forgive you on the spot? To act like everything's okay? Maybe I've grown up a bit and maybe I'm not so naïve and trusting anymore, but don't act like you didn't have a part in that. I told you that if you hurt me, I would carry it around for the rest of my life. Don't say I didn't warn you, and its not like you paid me the same courtesy."

"You didn't look that torn up when Finn told you he loved you at Regionals, he hissed. "Weren't you with him like a week later?"

A stern librarian comes over to shush them. They have both forgotten that they are in a library and they are speaking in loud, angry whispers. As the woman escorts them out, he sneaks a glance at her and can tell that Rachel is trying not to cry. He knows that when she rubs her index finger on her cheek in slow strokes that she is trying to hide her emotions, whether it's embarrassment, or as he guesses it is in this instant, pain.

Once they exit the doors of the library, they are back in the cold. He can read the indecision on her face. She doesn't know where she is going but she doesn't want to follow him, either. She settles for standing still, pulling her coat tighter around her.

He is trying to figure out what to do when he hears her whisper. "Were you there that day? How did you know that Finn," she trailed off … "how did you know about Finn?"

"You guys were at the entrance to the auditorium. Not exactly the place for a private conversation."

"I didn't say it back."

"No you didn't," he admits softly, hopeful for where this is going.

The silence hangs heavy between them, until she breaks it.

"I feel different, she whispers. "I've never felt this needy before. I try to make everything perfect - Finn, glee club, my clothes, my hair. I even tried to befriend Quinn and Kurt…"

She takes a deep breath, and Jesse feels the weight of whatever she is going to say next.

"Don't you get it, Jesse? It wasn't the egg, or the lies, really. You left. You were my best friend, you told me it was okay to be me, to be who I was. You were right there with me, and then you left, like it meant nothing to you, like I meant nothing to you. So you want the truth? I don't know which Rachel to be anymore. It seems like it hurts a lot less this way."

She's not looking at him and he racks his brain to think of how he can answer her. He feels like he should be honest with her too.

"I didn't know what I was getting myself into, either. I never expected to care about you, Rachel. I tried to convince myself that I didn't. Sometimes I still try."

He raises a finger to a lock of her sideswept bangs, tracing it from scalp to root.

"If its any consolation, I think the bangs are really sexy."


	5. Chapter 5

_**This chapter is sort of lame, but to move on we need to get all the unpleasant background stuff out of the way.**_

"If its any consolation, I think the bangs are really sexy."

She hates him for the happiness that she feels course through her entire body when he compliments her hair. Really, truly hates him. When she and Finn had become a real couple over the summer, she had anticipated feeling somewhat inadequate as a girlfriend especially given his fondness for Cheerios. She had had bangs cut hoping to release some of the inner vixen she knew had to be hiding within her. Doesn't the girl in every teen movie she has ever seen always get infinitely sexier and more confident after a makeover?

The result of her "makeover" had been that she had spent all summer sweeping her sweaty hair off of her face because the bangs had been too short to tuck behind her ears. And Finn hadn't noticed at all. Or if he had, he had never said anything, so what had been the point?

But, despite her inner happiness, she takes a step back, out of the reach of Jesse's fingers, which have returned to the crown of her head to stroke her hair again.

"You don't get to say that," she chides him, but she's blushing and she knows he can tell.

He lowers his hand and nods. "Sorry."

But she has an hour with him and she wants to make the most of it. She's always believed in fate and everything happening for a reason. The fact that he is here and she is here, and technically neither of them should be there, strikes her as too serendipitous to be ignored.

Because as screwed up as it is, she's missed him. Missed having someone to talk to that doesn't need a thesaurus or an explanation to decipher what she's saying. Missed the silences that didn't need filling, missed the person that she was when he was around.

And she really does love it here on the NYU campus, despite how much she had held back on his tour. She feels like she can be that person again, here, in this place, with him. Plus, he just told her that he cares about her, and she wants to know more.

She realizes, too, that no one else has to know about this little interlude. No one will ever think that he was there with her this weekend. No one will ask questions, no explanations needed. For the first time in their relationship, she thinks, this will be only between them: no competing glee clubs, no long-lost birth mothers, no waiting in the wings boyfriends. Just them. The thought emboldens her. She wants the truth, the whole truth.

"Let's talk, Jesse. Let's really talk. I want to know everything that happened. I think I deserve that. I think I've figured some of it out but I want to hear it from you. This is your last chance, Hubbell."

She means to be serious, she really does, but her last sentence comes out with a bit of a smile. She remembers just how many times she'd made him watch that movie with her and it almost feels like she has her best friend back for a minute.

He chuckles and smiles. "Okay, let's go get those hot chocolates and find somewhere indoors and we'll talk."

He reaches for her hand, like he used to, to pull her into step with him, but he seems to remember her earlier comment and withdraws, just before he makes contact. She wants to reach for him, but she won't allow herself to just yet.

After he's paid for their hot chocolates and they're settled at a table, she listens as he tells her how it all started as a sort of experiment, an investigation. How he had seen her at Sectionals with Shelby, how Shelby had asked him to befriend her, and how Shelby had gotten more and more desperate as time went on so that he had transferred to McKinley and planted the tape in her room. He explains that the egging had nothing to do with Shelby and she probably still didn't know, but that it was Gisele, the female lead of Vocal Adrenaline who had planned it all.

"She didn't make you break an egg on my head, Jesse," Rachel reminds him quietly.

"No, she didn't. That was my decision, there's no way around that." He runs his hands through his hair before he continues. "I just felt trapped, Rachel. I knew how I felt about you but after everything I had done, I thought there was no way we would work or that you would forgive me." He sighs, placing his hands on the table in front of him.

"It seemed easier to just make a clean, well, break of it. With all the prep for Regionals, it was easy to convince myself that I didn't care, that it didn't matter, and then I saw you with Finn…"

He trails off, but she can tell he's not finished. "It wasn't until the summer, when I realized that I was leaving Ohio and that my life wasn't going in the direction I wanted it to. I realized just how many mistakes I had made."

"So when you said that you loved me …," part of her can't believe that she just asked that question even though its been on the tip of her tongue all afternoon. She doesn't know how to finish it though, so she shrugs, lets him finish the thought.

He nods. "I wanted to hurt you at the time, I think."

She immediately sits back in her chair, looks anywhere but at him. "Oh."

"Okay, that came out really wrong," he hurries to correct himself. "I meant what I said, it just shouldn't have come out then, or in that way. It isn't exactly how I envisioned saying it for the first time."

She's blushing again, and she brings her finger to rub against her cheek as if to hide it, something she always does when she's nervous.

"So you really did…" She hates that she's not finishing her sentences right now, it's really not like her.

"I hate that you doubt that I did, even if I gave you every reason to. Somehow part of me always hoped that you could see through the act, even if I couldn't or didn't want to at the time." He's come to the end of what he wants to say, and she can tell that it's her turn now.

"I've gone back over everything so many times that I don't really remember what's real any more or what's now tainted with everything that happened after."

He nods, but she can tell that he's disappointed.

Finally, she reaches for him, grasping both his hands on top of the table, threading their fingers together. His face seems to light up.

"That whole Run Joey Run thing was a big mistake too. I don't know what I was thinking."

"Yeah, that still stings."

She doesn't quite manage to stifle a giggle. "Let me tell you how hard it is to get egg yolk out of your hair."

"Touché. Truce?" He looks up at her hopefully, their hands are still linked.

"Truce." She smiles, remembering how many times they had declared a truce after a tickle war on her bed.

Well, there is _one_ more thing. "Jesse?"

"Yeah?"

She wonders how to phrase it: Like? Care? Love? She decides to go with the lower end of the spectrum.

"When did you start liking me? I mean for real."

He takes a deep breath. "I was attracted to you the moment I saw you singing that first time at Sectionals, before anything else happened. I started liking you when I realized you were serious about going to a Wiggles concert. Something about not caring what anyone else thinks of your musical preferences was quite a turn on," he winks at her, gives her a small smile and her hand a squeeze.

"I don't think I realized it was more until Run, Joey, Run but I'm sure it was there before that, long before that. I'd never felt that way before. I wasn't expecting it, especially given that I was technically supposed to be acting."

She wants to kiss him so badly, even though she realizes that she wanted the complete opposite only about an hour ago. It completely sneaks up on her.

She doesn't know where to go from here. She's forgotten herself while he was talking and this handholding is already crossing a line. Now that she's gotten what she was after, her adrenaline is fading and she needs to figure out what to do with the information she's just been given.

She chickens out.

Untangling their hands, she states, "Its nearing 7. Should we head over to the dining hall? I have to meet Kylie. Kylie from Kentucky."

There is disappointment written on his face and she thinks it probably mirrors what she is feeling. He's probably just remembered that she has a boyfriend and she was only his for the afternoon. She should have remembered sooner, too.

He shifts his hands to his coat pockets. "Sure. Let's get going."


	6. Chapter 6

As they walk to the dining hall, she shivers because it has gotten much colder since they entered the coffee shop. Pathetic fallacy, she thinks, remembering a term from Ms. Lawson's Sophomore Lit. class. She's gotten the answers that she wanted, but she feels no sense of vindication, only dread.

He hands over the scarf that he's wearing when he sees her trying to button her coat up all the way, and she gratefully accepts. The scarf is charcoal grey and soft. When she wraps it around her own neck, the smell she associates with him engulfs her. She wants to ask him if she can keep it, if only to have it to cry into when she returns to Lima.

They reach the door of the dining hall, and he remembers that they left her rolling bag in his locker in the music building. He tells her to wait just inside the entrance for Kylie, by the cardswiper where she is sure to be seen, and he will go grab her bag.

She takes a seat in a comfy-looking armchair to wait, and places her cell phone on her lap so that she can see if Kylie calls. She doesn't know anything about the girl, Allie hadn't mentioned any defining characteristics besides the fact that she is from Kentucky. Rachel looks up hopefully at everyone that passes, expecting each one to address her. At one point she stands up when she hears someone calling her name, only to realize that the person was speaking to a tall, blonde girl coming down the stairs.

Jesse returns about 15-minutes later, looking ridiculous in various shades of black, pulling her bright pink bag behind him. He looks surprised when he sees her still sitting alone and she tells him that there has been no sign of Kylie.

"Are you sure we're in the right place? NYU must have more than one dining hall. I've read that they've gotten awards for their wide selection of on-campus cuisine."

"This is the one that Allie told me to take you to. Do you have a number for this girl?"

Rachel calls the number that Allie had given her and it goes to Kylie Bilson's voicemail. She leaves a quick message explaining who she is, telling Kylie where she is waiting.

Jesse informs her that the dining hall closes at eight. He suggests that they get something to eat and leave a message with the cardswiper for Kylie that Rachel is just inside the dining hall, eating.

"If she's a theater major too, don't you know her?" Rachel asks. She's used to talent and commitment traveling in small circles.

"I might," he explains dryly. "The name sounds somewhat familiar, but I haven't hung out much with the theater people here. I'm double majoring in Econ and that sucks up a lot of my time."

"Econ?" She's shocked. She knows that Jesse has always gotten good grades in everything, but she never thought that he had many other academic interests outside of Theater, and maybe Literature.

"My dad," he offers as an explanation and she knows better than to press. Even in their short relationship, she had quickly realized that the topic of his parents was one he never broached. He had often expressed amazement at how close she was with her dads, having nothing to compare it too in his own world. She makes a note to herself to get it out of him later, and then remembers that Kylie is actually delaying the inevitable goodbye that will happen between them tonight.

They find a table near the front entrance of the dining hall so that they can see Kylie when she arrives. Though Rachel tries various things, she's disappointed by the quality of the food. Jesse eats quickly, unappreciatively, and he tells her that he hardly visits the dining halls on campus. He goes into some detail about the various restaurants he loves to frequent in the area, how he lives on falafel, hummus, and butter chicken. She remembers how he introduced her to Indian and Lebanese food, even in Ohio, and she finds herself wanting to go to these places with him.

Part of her is starting to wish that Kylie doesn't show up. She doesn't want to leave him just yet.

Then her phone rings, and she remembers. She feels sort of bipolar tonight.

It's Finn. Her boyfriend, Finn.

She suddenly feels trapped. Jesse can hear Finn's voice through the phone even if he couldn't tell by the guilty look on her face (and the ring tone) who was calling. She can't give Jesse the satisfaction of her getting up from the table so she settles for leaning back in her chair, as far away from him as she can manage, speaking as quietly as possible.

"Hi." She refuses to look at Jesse, who she can somehow tell is smirking in her direction. She turns her head to the side.

"It's going well. I'm having dinner now in the dining hall."

"I've only really met my tour guide … but I'll be going to classes tomorrow."

"She's really cool." When she hears Jesse chuckle, she shoots him what she hopes is a death glare across the table.

"Yeah, sorry. Its not the best time to talk. I'll call you tomorrow."

Her gut clenches when she hears Finn say he loves her when the phone is halfway from her ear. She pretends she didn't hear and ends the call, laying the phone on the table.

She takes a second to grasp her fork, spearing a piece of broccoli, before looking up to face Jesse.

"You should have told Finn that I say hi. I should have asked him how the team was playing this year." There is no indication on his face that he is joking, even though she knows he is, and she wants to hurl her fork at him. He can revert to obnoxious Jesse so easily.

"Whatever." It's not the most intelligent response, but she doesn't think well when she feels guilty.

She refuses to talk to him for a while until he tells her that the dining hall staff is starting to clean up and Kylie still hasn't shown up. He asks her to call the girl again and he goes to grab dessert.

She leaves another voicemail. He returns with two brownies ("they're vegan," he says). She tells him to go, that she will be fine waiting on her own.

"I'm not leaving you here, Rachel. What if she never shows up?"

She's still feeling incredibly guilty about her lie (lies?) to Finn, and thinking about the stalemate of her and Jesse's conversation earlier, and how Jesse has the ability to make her happy and drive her crazy in concurrent seconds.

She thinks she needs some space.

She tells him that she is going to call Allie to figure out an alternate plan for the night.

He looks at her carefully as he says, "Or…," then he stops.

She looks at him dumbly, "Or…?," she repeats agitatedly.

"Or you could just stay with me."

_**Like you didn't see that coming ;-) Question to all of you: to fool around or not to fool around? Review!**_


	7. Chapter 7

_**Thank you for all the amazing reviews! I will make sure to repay the favor to all of you. I've never really done a multi-chapter story before, and I'm enjoying it a lot more than I thought I would.**_

_**Thankfully, the vote went to fooling around, which I think is more realistic. Look for it in later chapters!**_

_**And, Brenda from the first chapter IS Kylie. By the time I got around to chapter 6, I had forgotten her name, and I just really liked the sound of Kylie from Kentucky.**_

He's just asked her to spend the night with him. Well, not in that way, but he's pretty sure that's how she took it given that she is glaring at him with her hand on her hip.

"I really don't think that's appropriate. Allie promised my dads that I would have a perfectly hospitable female host waiting for me and I'm sure that she can provide other options if Kylie is no longer available." She's speaking fast, more like the Rachel he is used to, and she's actually looking at him.

"It's 8:30 on a Thursday night Rachel. Whoever this Kylie person is, she's obviously not concerned about you and Allie's at her house in Long Island with an infant and a husband. Do you really want to disturb her?" He's speaking in what he hopes is a logical tone, and he can see that his words are having the intended effect on her. She's looking from the slip of paper with the phone numbers to her phone, and he can see the cogs turning in her mind.

"You can have my bed. I'll sleep on the air mattress. I won't do anything inappropriate, I promise. It's just one night and we can go see Allie tomorrow to get you another host."

He can't help a sly smile at his statement because he sounds so innocent and he's really not. He's glad that she's not looking at him at that particular moment. He won't try anything she's not comfortable with, of course, but the thought of them alone in his room together all night, with her in his bed, doesn't exactly lead to innocent thoughts.

He finds himself counting the seconds until she says its okay. She makes it to 25. She gives in quicker than he thought she would and he finds himself thinking that maybe there is hope. For what, he doesn't know. He knows he's not in control anymore; the cards are in her hand.

He's not sure what he expects from her, or how exactly he sees their current situation resolving itself. He just knows that earlier he told her everything that had been on his chest for almost a year and then she had smiled and laughed with him while holding his hand. He's also pretty sure that she's aware that he loves her, even if he's never said the actual words. She's still here with him, and she will be sleeping in his bed tonight. He thinks there is nowhere to go but up. Boyfriend be damned.

He's brought out of his thoughts by her authoritative tone, which sounds so harsh to his ear. Her tone reminds him of the content of the phone conversation with said boyfriend at dinner, and he feels some of his hope diminish.

"Fine. Against my better judgment, I accept your invitation for tonight only. It doesn't make sense to stay here when Kylie can just call me and I can meet her later, and I don't want to disturb Allie. I told her I was fine with you and I don't want her to think I'm uncomfortable." She has her arms crossed against her chest, and there is a cool, calm and collected mask on her face.

"And, Jesse?" He raises his eyebrows at her questioning tone. "Just to make it clear. I have a boyfriend. I am sleeping in the bed on my own, and I am not having sex with you tonight." She is completely serious but the effect is ruined when he laughs.

"Of course, Rachel," he says, still laughing, "thank you for the forewarning."

She seems annoyed that he is laughing at her and he tries to stop, but she looks and sounds so serious, its cute. He knows that he's undermined her defenses before and she's probably trying to convince them both that nothing is going to happen between them tonight with that little speech. He knows her well enough to know that every non-innocent thought he has had since he made the invitation has crossed her mind too, or at least the context has, and she's still agreeing to this. She's accepting the risk. Game on. She knows what happens when they are alone.

She looks as if she wants to reconsider when she sees him laugh, but she's made her bed and now she has to lie in it, so to speak.

He lives about 15 minutes from campus, in a dorm of single rooms that is usually reserved for upperclassmen, but was where he was put when he was looking for freshman housing late in the summer.

It's cold, so they catch the campus shuttle to right outside his dorm instead of walking. He stops to pick up an air mattress from the front desk clerk on their way up to his floor, and when he signs for it, he gives her a reassuring smile. She smiles back.

She's not sure how she ended up here. There are so many people, she thinks, that would not approve of this. The fact that she will never tell them doesn't exactly comfort her and increases the guilt in her stomach.

She thinks of the emergency credit card in her wallet that her dad had given her before she left that morning. She thinks that not having a place to sleep would qualify as one of the emergencies he had brushed over, not expecting that she would encounter them. So why isn't she at some hotel far away from Jesse St. James right now?

Even though she knows it's a bad idea, she can't bring herself to let go of him just yet, not when she doesn't have to. She gave about thirty seconds of thought to their situation, factoring in their earlier conversation. Part of her wants to know if they could work, now that all of the lies are out of the way. He knows her so well, and she has fun with him, and she only really feels guilty about this when she thinks about Finn. The self-serving part of her is all for this.

Finn doesn't deserve this betrayal because he trusts her completely. And he would never be able to understand why she could give Jesse the time of day after he treated her the way he did. And it is this fact, ironically, that finally cements her decision. She and Finn have never felt that pull to be together, like she felt and still feels with Jesse. She thinks that part of the attraction of her and Finn's relationship was the chase. He was what she had wanted for so long, and after all the shame with Jesse and Shelby, she couldn't admit to another failed attempt at a relationship when she had finally gotten him, after everything. So she tried to make it work, skimming over his flaws, and she was becoming another person in the process.

She had felt it all along, and it was only confirmed to her when Jesse said it to her earlier this afternoon. He had always seen her, and she appreciated that he never sugarcoated for her, never held back. The fact that they could fight and argue and be perfectly fine the next minute (or the reverse) was one of the reasons they worked so well together. She needs to be angry and selfish and dramatic and amazingly anxious at times, without worrying about the consequences for the people around her, needs to be confident in the fact that they will be there for her. She often feels that she is walking on eggshells around Finn, so she became someone skilled at treading lightly. It's not her. She has wondered often if their promise never to break up with each other is the only thing keeping them together.

She's wondering this now as she walks with Jesse to his room. She knows what can happen behind his closed door. They've never done anything but make out and grope before, but she knows how quickly things can get heated between them. And tonight it feels like some of the barriers in their previous relationship have been stripped down, some of her reservations around him are gone.

For some reason that she has yet to analyze, he's earned some (and maybe more than some) of her trust back in the past 6 hours.

The entire situation appeals to the drama queen in her. If she's being honest with herself, she wants to see where this leads. Right now she doesn't know.


	8. Chapter 8

_**Chapter 8. **_

_**And so it begins… **_

His room is small and narrow. There is a twin bed along the left wall and a desk along the right, with shelving above both. There's a mini-fridge next to the desk and a small closet and bathroom. The sole window is immediately opposite the door and it looks out onto the fire escape of the adjacent building. The only adornment on the walls is a small, framed sepia tone picture of the New York skyline. The shelf above his bed is filled with books, and this is finally where she recognizes Jesse in the room.

He's apologizing for the size, and although it is night, the lack of natural light. He explains that he's hoping to get an apartment next year, but at least he has a single room, and he only has to be there until May.

She's half-listening to him because she's leaning toward the bookshelf over the bed, skimming the titles of what must be newer additions to his collection: some theater text books, a history of Broadway theaters from Playbill, Girl With the Dragon Tattoo. He answers her unasked question when he says that he now keeps his extensive music collection on an IPOD, because he's obviously missing another bookshelf full of alphabetized CDs.

She takes the Playbill book off the shelf and sits on the edge of his bed, because other than his desk chair, there is no other place to sit. It's obvious that once the mattress gets blown up, there won't be space to move around. She leaves the book sitting beside her, unopened on the bedspread. They are both quiet, and each of them is looking at the other out of the corner of their eye. It seems they are thinking the same thing. The room is so tiny, it's only about 9pm, they have to share this space, and they have the entire night ahead of them. What do they do now?

Luckily for Rachel, who is still battling her conflicted thoughts about Finn, Jesse takes the lead.

"You've been taking French since you were little, right?" He moves to the desk as he speaks, removes a textbook from the shelf above it.

"Uh huh." She's surprised by the question, wants to see what he's getting at. Her dads signed her up for private French lessons when she was six, and she'd continued them until high school, when she had started taking Spanish at McKinley. She still knows it well enough to watch foreign movies without subtitles, but she hasn't spoken it in years.

"I'm taking French 101 this semester for my foreign language requirement and I have a writing assignment I have to complete for class tomorrow. I'd appreciate the help." He's looking at her hopefully. He can sense that she's not truly comfortable here with him, and he wants to fix that by doing something innocuous that she will enjoy. Homework.

She nods agreeably. "Sure. What's the assignment?"

"I have to describe a day I spent with a friend in 250 words using the past tense. I'm pretty bad though, so you have to promise not to make fun of me. And trust me, that's not easy for me to admit." His tone is light because he's searching for a smile, a laugh. He's not disappointed.

"Is Jesse St. James finally admitting that he's not perfect at something?" She speaks in a teasing tone, and she brushes her hair off her face and behind her left ear.

"I _never_ said I sucked," he states seriously. "French just isn't my thing. The academic counseling office rejected my request to be exempt from the language requirement even though I explained that music is the most important language of all, and I am quite fluent in that."

She genuinely laughs at this.

"If NYU is able to take your ego down a bit, that makes me like this place more and more." She can't help it, she's wholeheartedly smiling at him. He can tell.

"Just imagine what it can do for yours." Her mouth drops open because as much as she just walked right into that one, she did not see it coming.

And this is what she likes about them together. She won't tell him that he has a point because he knows he won that battle. He's smiling at her, and she loses any comeback she might have had.

She'll just change the subject and probably (hopefully) win the next battle.

"My brilliance at French is going to get you an A on that assignment. Any more cracks about my ego, or do you want my help?"

He sits in his desk chair, turning it away from the desk to face her, textbook and a notepad in his lap. She shrugs off her coat and lays it beside her on the bed but keeps the scarf on.

She's peering into his lap at the textbook as she asks, "so who's your friend and what did you two do?"

"Well my friend's name is Rachel and we did all the things that are on my vocabulary list here, and I was thinking that we did them all in Paris, since we can make stuff up." He's not looking at her, but at the textbook as he speaks. All signs of jest are gone from his voice, but she can't really gauge his tone.

She's slightly curious as to why he picked her name, wonders if it has some underlying meaning other than she's sitting right in front of him, helping him with the assignment. She knows that she's told him before that Paris is her favorite city, having been once with her dads when she was twelve.

He's pretty good with his sentence structure, and she doesn't end up helping him all that much. He messes up sometimes on his conjugation, which usually results in him running a hand through his hair and making annoyed sounds with his tongue. She laughs at his frustration before gently correcting him, walking him through the conjugation chart until she's pretty sure he has it memorized. Although the words on his list are pretty basic, verbs such as eat, see, drink, visit, they manage to come up with a great day by using Parisian landmarks and foods as their nouns. She's made a lot of suggestions for their destinations, places that she longs to go to again, and she finds herself quite jealous of their fictional day together.

She realizes at some point that they are flirting with each other, and she's forgotten how good it was, how fun and easy it is to do this with him. They're both unwilling to finish because they're enjoying themselves, but he's already hit 300 words and reusing the verbs on his list.

After they end their day by the Seine, he looks at her with a smile. "Sounds like the perfect day, although I'm not sure we could have realistically done the opera and the ballet in one night."

She laughs. "That's the part you found unrealistic? Apparently, we read _and_ sang _all _of Les Mis in the Tuileries Gardens in a couple of hours."

"Maybe I should add that we bought a time machine too." They both erupt into laughter.

When their laughter fades away, Rachel is again reminded how small the room is and how close he is to her.

He types his handwritten essay unto the computer while she skims through the Playbill book, lying on his bed with her bare feet against the wall. After he's done, he calls her over to check for spelling and accent errors.

Since there is no other chair other than the desk chair that he is currently sitting in, she hovers over him, reading the screen over his shoulder, bracing herself with her hands on the edge of his desk.

He knows that if he moves his head just a bit, his skin will make contact with hers and he shifts uncomfortably in his seat.

She chuckles at something in the essay and moves one of her hands to the keyboard to change a word. She reassesses, and changes the word back, this time moving both of her hands towards his keyboard, meaning that she is standing in an even more awkward position.

Without thinking too much about it, he tugs on her right wrist when it comes back to rest on the desk, and pulls her into his lap, and given her off-balance position, she falls quite easily. There is silence for a moment, then she stiffens.

"Jesse." She says his name softly. It's not so much an admonition as a warning. For both of them, he thinks. Even though they've been flirting all this time, he just made it physical and she can't handle that.

"Sorry. Let me get up." He slides out from under her and stands up, lingers by the chair looking defeated.

She finishes reviewing the essay, changes only a few things, then she stands up and faces him.

"I think that should be good." She pauses. "It's been a long day, I think I'm ready for bed."

He nods. "Thanks for your help."

"No problem. I thought college level work would be harder." He laughs.

She grabs her stuff from her bag and goes into the bathroom to change. He pushes the desk chair as far into the desk as it will go, and pumps up the air mattress.

She comes out of the bathroom in purple, sparkle-striped pajama pants and a long sleeve shirt. The pants are a little juvenile, nothing's showing and he's pretty sure that she kept her bra on, but she's still sexy, as always. He can't help but look at her and he's pretty sure that she notices. He thinks she's blushing.

She awkwardly climbs around the air mattress to get into his bed. She pulls down his sheets and then tosses a pillow from the bed onto the pile of spare sheets that he is spreading on the mattress.

"Thanks," he says.

She's too overwhelmed by all that's happening to speak so she nods.

"Do you mind if I keep the lamp on to read for a while?" She shakes her head as she tries to get comfortable beneath his blankets.

He switches off the main light in the room but keeps the desk lamp on and heads into the bathroom to brush his teeth.

When the bathroom door shuts and she hears the tap start running, Rachel lets out a deep breath. Her heart is pounding, and she's nervous. Part of her wants to reach out to him, pull him into bed with her. She could feel the way he was looking at her, and there were also the glances and quick touches they've been exchanging all night. They've had so much fun tonight, just hanging out, and being in his lap for even that split second felt amazing, even if she stopped it. His size is not overwhelming like Finn's and she always fits against him perfectly.

All night, she's been aware of everything in the room, every movement he makes. Knowing that neither her dads nor anyone else will interrupt them tonight is tempting her bravado.

Another part of her is screaming that this is wrong, that Finn would hate her if he knew about any of this. Even if she's curious about what could happen with Jesse, she can't get Finn out of her mind. She worries that if she does anything with Jesse she might come to regret it.

Is she willing to throw away everything she has built with Finn for one weekend? She and Jesse may have something deeper and more complex than Finn and she will ever have, that she's willing to admit, but Jesse doesn't walk the halls of McKinley with her everyday. Her status at school has gotten so much better since she started dating Finn and he's sweet to her. What more could a girl want?

She resists the thought that if that is the best argument that she can make for her and Finn's relationship, they are really in trouble. Jesse or no Jesse.

Speaking of Jesse, he reenters the room and interrupts her thoughts. Wanting to avoid any conversation, she turns in the bed to face the wall, giving the appearance that she is going off to sleep.

Even though she can't see him, she can still see his shadow by the light of the desk lamp. She watches, enraptured, as he removes his shirt and then his pants with what she thinks is a sort of sexy confidence, even though technically he's not being watched. Even in shadow form, she can see the definition of his body and she sucks in a breath. He pulls out a pair of pants from a drawer, and steps into them slowly. She thinks she finally understands what Mercedes means whenever she says a guy has swagger. Even though she has never really seen Finn remove clothes before, she knows that he could never pull it off with the sexy easiness that Jesse has.

"Goodnight, Rachel," he whispers, but she doesn't respond.


	9. Chapter 9

_**I'm having too much fun writing this story this weekend! I probably won't get the next chapter out before Wednesday because of school, though. Thank you all for your reviews and tips, keep them coming. This chapter isn't great (the last one was my favourite) but I think the next one will be better.**_

Surprisingly, even with her head full of thoughts, Rachel manages to fall asleep in Jesse's bed. She realizes this because she jerks awake at almost 3am (according to the clock on the shelf) to the sound of her phone wailing from the desk. It wakes Jesse up as well and he gropes for the phone from his position on the air mattress, tossing it to her when he locates it.

She doesn't recognize the ring tone, and when she looks at the phone, she vaguely recognizes the number though she can't place it. She presses accept, praying that there hasn't been some sort of emergency.

"OH MY GOD, is this Rachel?" Whoever is on the phone sounds crazy, drunk, high or a combination of all three. Rachel holds the phone away from her ear because this girl is so loud, Rachel is pretty sure that even Jesse's neighbors can hear her.

"Rachel, shit, I am so sorry. I completely forgot that I was supposed to meet you. I just got your message and I totally fucked up. I met this guy, Darren, he's in CU and he has this awesome ride and we drove to fucking Hartford, and now it's snowing and he doesn't want to leave and I just found out he has a fucking girlfriend…" She sounds manic.

"It's okay," Rachel interrupts, eager to get Kylie, apparently, off the phone. "I have a friend here and I'm spending the night with him…"

"Fuck. Well I'm supposed to take you to class so let's meet tomorrow, okay? I'm gonna take the stupid Greyhound back. 1pm. Lunch at Johnsons. Okay?"

Rachel doesn't really think this sounds okay. This girl sounds crazy, but in her hazy state agreeing sounds infinitely easier than pressing the topic. "Sure."

"Awesome!"

Rachel starts to respond, but Kylie has already hung up the phone. She puts the phone on silent, rests it on her pillow, and turns towards Jesse who is rubbing his hands over his eyes.

"The infamous Kylie, I take it?" Jesse asks from the floor, "She sounds like she's been having fun."

"Sorry about that, I didn't realize the ringer was on." She sighs. "I guess I'm meeting her at one at Thompsons."

"Johnsons," Jesse corrects, "That's where we were tonight."

"Oh, I forgot."

"Jesse?" She waits for him to respond. "Thanks for letting me stay here tonight. Obviously she wasn't going to show up."

"No problem." There's silence for a couple of minutes. She thinks they're both wide awake.

Rachel watches quietly as he sits up on the mattress and stretches. He's not wearing a shirt, and his body is distracting, even in the semi-darkness. He reaches and pulls the door of the mini fridge open, gets two bottles of water out and passes one to her.

"Thanks," she says, opening the water. The dorm's heating is making her dehydrated.

He changes positions again on the mattress, and he lifts the window blinds to peer through them. He seems antsy, unable to stay still.

"It's snowing," he informs her, "And there's already almost a foot on the ground."

"That's nice," she answers distractedly. She puts the water bottle on the shelf above her and tries to get comfortable in bed. She's trying not to look at him as much as possible.

"We should go to the quad," he concludes matter of factly.

She's not sure if it's the early hour, or the fact that she wasn't paying full attention to his words, but those things don't seem connected in the least.

"What? Jesse it's three in the morning." She's not sure if she can get back to sleep after Kylie's phone call, but she wants to try. Being asleep means she can't do something she will regret.

"We could take a walk. There's probably a huge snowball fight going on right now." He switches on the desk lamp and starts getting dressed, standing up and pulling a shirt on. "Come on, it will be fun," he encourages.

She sits up in bed and she can't help it if she sounds frustrated, "Can I repeat that it's almost three in the morning? Don't you have class tomorrow?"

"Come on, Rachel. This is the best part of college. It's three in the morning and we can go do whatever we want. You didn't come to New York to sleep did you?"

She also didn't come to New York to play around with him, she thinks, but she doesn't say it. She has to admit that she's never really seen him this excited about something that didn't involve music, singing or dance, and she's a little intrigued. She feels herself giving in.

She quickly realizes another problem. "Jesse, I have nothing to wear to a snowball fight."

The absurdity of her statement hits them both immediately, and they catch each other's gaze across the room. She laughs along with him, and she recalls that he is one of the few people around whom she feels okay poking fun at herself. She remembers trying to convince him that Patti Lapone and then Bernadette Peters were her mother(s).

"You didn't bring any workout clothes?" He's still laughing as he asks.

"No, I figured I wouldn't have time," she huffs. "I only have skirts and tights and sweaters."

He reaches into one of the drawers of his desk, which she now realizes he uses as a dresser, and pulls out a grey NYU sweatshirt and sweatpants, tossing them to her on the bed. "Here," he says. "If you tuck the sweat pants into your boots they will fit you better."

"Thank you." She used to love wearing his clothes, especially his hoodies. She still has one of his Carmel High gym shirts tucked away in one of her drawers from when they went running once. She tells herself that she keeps it as a reminder of his betrayal, as inspiration for Nationals, but she drags it out sometimes when she thinks of him.

She pulls the gigantic sweatshirt on over her pajama top, and because its early, and she's lazy, and he's not paying attention to her as he digs through his closet, she decides to change out of her pants right there instead of going to the bathroom.

She swings her legs over the side of the bed, and shimmies out of her pajama pants. She straightens out the sweat pants and sticks both legs in, standing up to pull them on.

But she forgets that the air mattress is on the ground and she isn't standing on solid ground. She trips and falls to her knees on the mattress. Of course, the sound of her falling draws his attention, and of course her fall directly thrusts her pink boy short clad butt in his direction, exactly where his gaze now falls.

She refuses to look at him as she tries to draw the pants up from her position on her knees. Only when she is confident that she can stand without falling does she raise herself to her full height. She draws the drawstring of the pants as tight as they will go.

"You okay over there?" he teases. "Need some help?" She shoots him a look from across the room, blushing furiously.

"I'm fine." She walks along the air mattress towards where she left her shoes earlier to prove her point.

"They look good on you." He speaks softly, nodding his head towards her (his) clothes. "The sweats, I mean, not your … I didn't mean…" He rubs the back of his neck wearily and doesn't finish his sentence. Its obvious what he's thinking about.

She sort of loves that she can do this to him, make him babble. He's not prone to it.

The sweats are at least three sizes too big, and they are so baggy she is not sure how warm they will be in the snow. "Thank you," she responds quietly, because she's not sure what else to say. She feels the weight of the tension in the room. She thinks it makes both of them want to get out of there, or do something about it.

They both outfit themselves in coats, hats, gloves and boots and head towards the quad. There's almost no one out at this hour, and though the snow is beautiful, the city is so quiet, it's eerie.

He links his arm through hers as they walk, and she appreciates the reminder that he is there with her. She leans a little closer to him, resting her other hand on his arm.

As they approach the quad, the silence is shattered by loud footsteps and shrieks. There are about 40 people either making snow angels, or, as Jesse predicted, having a snowball fight, even though there really isn't that much snow on the ground.

It's organized chaos (someone yells boys versus girls) and Jesse and Rachel jump right in. The prime of the fight lasts about 10 minutes. After that, people break up into their little groups, making the fight personal again.

Rachel and Jesse are laughing hard and breathing heavily from the exertion. The earlier boundaries between them are forgotten in the excitement as they try to grab on and tackle each other. Rachel tugs him towards a spot under a tree that looks untouched, the snow waiting to be defiled. He leans his back against the tree, trying to catch his breath while he watches her gather a huge snowball in her hands.

She's not even being coy about it. She intends to nail him with that snowball. Just when he thinks she's about to toss it, she starts running towards him. He reaches out to stop her a bit too late, and catches her hips instead of her arm. All is lost. She whips off his hat and dumps the thing in the midst of his curls.

She bites down on her lower lip while she watches his reaction. He thinks he now knows what it feels like to be slushied, and from the contemplative look on her face he can tell that this was her intention. He feels like he has been initiated into something, something that she controls.

She is positively giddy right now, and it looks good on her. He tightens his hold on her hips, and leans down towards her, brushing her cheek with his. He feels her shiver. He hopes it's because of him.

"That wasn't very nice," he whispers softly in her ear. His hair is soaked and he is freezing.

She shrugs her shoulders. "All's fair in love and war," she whispers dramatically, though she's not sure where she's going with that.

Although he's not sure which she characterizes this as, he takes her statement as an invitation.

He leans his forehead against hers and says her name. Her hands come up to rest on his arms, then after a couple of long seconds, they slide up around his neck.

He lets her lead, and she eventually closes the distance between them, pressing her lips to his, unable to resist anymore.

His hand finds the back of her neck as he tries to deepen the kiss, but she pulls away before he can get comfortable.

He lets out a frustrated groan, then tries to go in for another kiss. She pushes at his arms.

"Jesse, we shouldn't."

He curses, and has the nerve to laugh. "Is this still about Finn? God, Rachel, forget about him."

"It's not that easy. We're together, and I shouldn't cheat on him like this."

"Don't be naïve. You don't think you've been cheating on him all this time? How do you think he would react if he knew you were sleeping in my room, that you were here with me tonight, that you lied to him on the phone? You want this."

She's shaking her head, but she doesn't say anything. Her reaction, or lack thereof, goads him on.

"You don't love him."

"You don't know that," she says, still shaking her head.

"You've never said it to him," he tries.

"You don't know that," she repeats again, this time more vehemently, looking him in the eye.

"Well, have you?"

He's angering her. This isn't the best way to get through to her, he knows, but he's sick of her going back and forth, being hot and cold. Either they're doing this or they're not.

He knows which one he wants.

But she knows how to anger him too, and what she says next hurts him in a way he never saw coming.

"And what makes you so self-assured, Jesse? It's not like I've ever said that I loved you."


	10. Chapter 10

"And what makes you so self-assured, Jesse? It's not like I've ever said that I loved you."

She regrets the words as soon as she says them, her instinct to hurt him much weaker in hindsight. He physically recoils from her, as if she has slapped him, and it's a direct reversal of their movements when she kissed him just moments earlier.

She wants to go back to that, even if she had been the one to stop them at the time. Her mouth is no longer occupied, but she feels as though she can't breathe.

He's walking away from her. Literally. He steps back a couple of steps, still facing her, but not really seeing her. She can tell. He drops his head to stare at the ground at the same time he starts rummaging through his pockets. He comes up with two keys on a ring, and an NYU ID card.

"These will get you back into the building and into the room," he states, holding out the items to her. She doesn't move to take them, and he steps forward, placing them in her left coat pocket.

"Allie should be in her office by around 8:30."

Then he turns around and walks away.

She realizes then that he won't be coming back. In the months since their breakup, she has wondered and fantasized about how they would meet again in the future, when they were both successful and high school became something to be joked about. She realizes now that this was it. This had been their moment, their chance. Whenever, wherever he sees her after this, no matter how much time has passed, he will refuse to meet her eyes, or say her name. He will forever turn and walk in the other direction.

But he stops and turns back around, and she feels hope she doesn't deserve blossom in her chest.

He speaks very softly, but even surrounded by shouts and the sound of snowballs meeting snow and bodies, she hears every word.

"He doesn't understand you, Rachel, and he never will. You can try to make it work, to write your high school romance exactly the way you want it, for as long as you want to try. He has hurt you so many times, and yet you still forgive him, you always take him back. I don't know why or what he does to deserve it. But one day you will come to realize, for him, it will never be you."

He pauses, sighs. "Don't you get it, Rachel? _He_ is your fucking Hubbell."

And with that, he's gone.

She's crying, sucking in ragged breaths all the way back to his dorm. She doesn't know how she let it get that far. She had never said the words to him before, true, but she had never doubted the basis of her attraction to him, either. When, in those months following Regionals, she had doubted the veracity of his feelings for her, she had never, not once, doubted the sincerity of hers for him.

She hates to think of what she said to him just now, and the way she said it. She will never forgive herself for ending their relationship like this, in a way that is so blatantly a lie. It hurts her too much to think that even when he ended it the first time, he had still affirmed his love for her in the process.

Walking into his room without him feels like physical pain. She sidesteps the air mattress and collapses unto his bed, cries giving way to sobs. This day has been way too long, too overwhelming, and she just wants him there with her, holding him like he used to. She wants to apologize, to explain to him why she keeps sabotaging their relationship when she could have given them the one thing that they both obviously want. Explaining would be easier, however, if she had any idea why she did this, and why she keeps doing it.

He enters the room at 8:25am. He has the door only part way open and the first thing he notices is that the air mattress has been tidied away so there is space to walk easily. He then notices that the extra sheets and the sweats that he had given her to wear are folded neatly in a pile on his desk, his ID card and keys next to them.

She's sitting on his bed, wearing her pajamas, back against the wall, knees pulled up against her chest. Her hair is a mess and her eyes are red from crying, tear tracks stain her cheeks. It's clear she hasn't slept at all. She's obviously waiting for him.

He didn't expect to find her here.

He's not sure he can do this again. Earlier, he had wanted a definitive answer from her, and he had gotten one.

He turns his head, weighs stepping back into the hallway, when she speaks.

"Please don't go." She pushes off of the wall with her hands and gets to her feet, walking towards him.

"I can't do this anymore, Rachel," he says, twisting the doorknob in his hand, still indecisive as to whether he is in or out.

"Please," she pleads, finally reaching him and drawing his hand away from the knob, pulling him into the room.

He lets out a breath. "Look Rachel, I know I messed up when I egged you, but I won't keep paying for that mistake over and over. Honestly, I came here to escape it. So let's stop doing this. You want Finn, so have him. I'm not in the picture. I never was."

He removes his arm from her grasp. "Just go."

She grabs unto the edge of his coat, starts shaking her head slowly.

"I didn't mean it," she takes a huge gulp of air, "Not like that."

"I know."

Later, she will remember how immense her love for him is in that moment.

She meets his eyes for the first time since he came back to his room, his response giving her the confidence she needs to go on.

She speaks quickly but quietly, sentences punctuated by the sobs that are still escaping her.

"I've thought about this so much tonight. I wanted Finn because Finn_ is_ easier to forgive, because I can control him … I can sort of control him. I can control how much I give of myself to him, to our relationship, and, even when he disappoints me, it's easy to start from scratch and rebuild it … making it more like how I want it to go."

Her left hand comes up to wipe at her eyes and her nose. Her right hand still holds steadfastly to his coat.

"But Jesse, you… you and I … we're equals. But that means that you have so much more power over me. I'm not used to that … I don't know how to deal with it … It's everything I've tried to avoid. But for some reason, it works. Until we tip the balance and one of us tries to gain the upper hand and it hurts. It hurts so much … and its so easy to try to avoid that, to run from it … But it hurts so much more to be without you."

She starts crying once more. "I miss you and I can't survive you leaving me again. Tonight… I just… Please … please don't go."

He takes off his hat and gloves. He starts unzipping his coat, removes her hand from the hem, slips it off and tosses it onto his desk chair.

"So," he asks slowly, "what do you want, Rach?"

"I want _you_. I love _you_," she answers without hesitation. She sucks in a breath.

"I've never said that to _anyone_ else before," she stresses, biting her lip and tucking her hair behind her ears.

"Neither have I."

He puts a hand on each side of her face, thumbs circling her cheeks.

"Are you sure this is what you want? No regrets?"

She shakes her head. "No regrets." She pauses, adds, "I'll regret not doing this, I already regret all of this."

"And what about Finn?"

"I'll deal with Finn … with everyone else when I get back. I just want to have this weekend with you."

He initiates their second kiss, and there is no pulling back on her part. It's desperate and passionate and this time she gives in wholly and completely. She forgot that she sees colors when she kisses him, and she can't explain it better than that. It's all sensation and bare consciousness, lack of sight and faith. When they pull back to breathe, her lips are already sore.

"What are my ground rules?" he asks quietly in her ear, forehead pressed against hers, eager to get closer to her.

"Ground rules?" She's tired and not thinking straight, and perplexed by his question. She wants to kiss him again, not talk. They've done enough talking.

He slides his right hand under her shirt, just at her waist and curves it around her body. He begins to slide it upwards so, so slowly.

"Obviously, you have veto power," he says, looking directly into her eyes, "But I just want to know what I can and can't do."

His hand is just under her breast now. After changing out of his sweats and into her pajamas she had neglected to put a bra back on. He's obviously noticed. He pauses, waits for her to tell him to stop.

She kisses the side of his mouth, his cheek, the underside of his jaw, fingers digging into his hips. "None that I can think of right now."

"You're sure?"

"Sure."

His hand moves upwards to caress her breast, fingers playing gently across her nipple as he kisses her. She moans against his mouth, her body instinctively leaning towards him as his left hand comes up to join his right.

"Love you," he whispers as he pulls her shirt over her head.

_**Happy chapter next!**_

With Finn, I can control him. Even when he doesn't act like I want him to, I can still work it in as

We're equals and I don't know what to do with that. I can't control


	11. Chapter 11

_**Thanks for all the great reviews! There will be at least 5 more chapters but I don't have the storyline completely set as yet. This chapter is sort of long and rambling, but more angst is coming. This is how I do happy ;-)!**_

Afterward, they don't have time to sleep but neither of them seems to care. It's 10:45 and his French class is at 12, but he can't bring himself to tell her that they need to get up and start their day.

They had both needed physical intimacy to match the declarations of love that they had exchanged that morning, some concrete confirmation of their commitment to each other. Actions always speak louder than words.

She's lying on top of him, naked from the waist up, as is he. Earlier, he had caressed and kissed every part of her upper body with painstaking detail. He had traced her collarbone and across her breasts with the ends of her hair, which she would have never imagined would be as erotic as it had been. For her part, she had used her fingers and lips to map out all of the muscles of his chest and arms, had discovered that his entire body shuddered each time she ran her finger directly over his spine.

Despite her protests, he breaks their bubble at 11 because he can't miss another French class or he will literally fail. When they finally separate, both their stomachs have large, red splotches on them from being pressed against each other so hard, for so long. Even if it is just temporary, she likes that they've both been marked by their morning. She wants to keep the perfection with her as long as she possibly can.

While he takes a shower, she responds to text messages from her dads. She hadn't called them last night and they want to know how she likes her trip so far. She responds with generic excitement, not wanting to get into details and tell any lies that may hinder the conversation she plans to have with them on Sunday evening.

For now, she just wants to spend the next two days with the boy she loves.

She decides to go to class with him before she meets Kylie. They grab breakfast at a café near the building his class is in. He makes her the perfect cup of coffee, adding cinnamon and a hint of vanilla to the café's regular brew.

"Do you think there will be a problem if Allie finds out that I'm staying with you?" she asks while looking at him. "They seemed to make a big deal of the fact that my host had to be female." She sounds worried, she doesn't want to get either of them into trouble.

"I wouldn't go around advertising it. Talk to Kylie, see if she can keep a secret. She probably doesn't exactly want it known that she didn't meet you last night, either. I honestly don't think that Allie will care, but the Dean and your dads definitely will."

"My dads will kill me," she states dramatically. He nods in complete agreement. She stirs the stirrer in her coffee cup contemplatively.

"It's worth it." She smiles at him as he smirks at her words.

He looks at her from across the small table. "I feel like you're too far away from me right now."

She blushes. "Control yourself, Jesse!" she says in mock outrage, "This is standard coffee table distance and you are about to go to class! At NYU! Have some respect!" She grins. Everything is funnier, happier, sunnier than it should be right now, even in the 30-degree weather.

"So are you," he laughs. "We should probably get going so you can see how boring even NYU classes can be." He grabs her hand and leads her there.

The French class passes quickly, thankfully, because she wants to jump in and correct everyone's pronunciation, criticize their lack of originality with their sentences. He can tell what she is thinking and occasionally he glances in her direction, silently daring her to say something, especially when someone is particularly bad. She refuses to give in, sticks her tongue out at him a couple of times.

He has to drag her away from a conversation in fluent French with the teacher at the end of the 45-minute session, reminding her that she has to meet Kylie across campus at one. She feels on top of the world right now, she hasn't spoken French in a while, and obviously she's still got it, accent and all. The teacher tells her that there is a French film festival going on downtown that the two of them might want to check out. At one point in their conversation, Madame calls Jesse her boyfriend, and Rachel feels a tinge of guilt. He's not her boyfriend. Technically, that position is already filled.

He walks her to the dining hall, taking the same route as last night, but this time they walk hand in hand. It's strange to think that in less than 24 hours everything has changed so much between them. He seems to be thinking the same thing she is, and he drags her closer, slipping his hand around her waist. As they walk, he tells her that there is a lecture that she might be interested in that afternoon, something on the future of modern literature in the theater, given by one of the university's most renowned professors.

She hates being without him when he leaves her to go to his Intro to Econ class, though she doesn't want to sit through that particular class. She doesn't want to think of what it is going to be like when she has to leave him on Sunday. She literally shakes her head, refusing to think about it until she absolutely has to.

Part of her unease is also because she is very hesitant to meet Kylie. She has no intention of staying with the girl, and hopes that she doesn't make a big deal of it. Generally, Rachel Berry is a rule follower, but she wants this weekend for herself. It has been a long time since she felt like herself. Jesse is a big part of that.

She's sitting in the same armchair as she was last night, feeling an odd sense of déjà vu. She doubts that Kylie will even show up, but at 1:03 her phone rings and she realizes that the redhead standing about 10 feet in front of her is attempting to call her.

"Hi," she says into the phone, loud enough so that the redhead turns around and makes the connection.

Rachel hangs up the phone, waves at Kylie who immediately engulfs her in a hug.

"Hey! So sorry about yesterday, Rachel. Boys fucking suck. I'll tell you all about it over lunch." Kylie seems manic in person too. She's dressed like the stereotype of an artist, in paint splattered paints, a tie die t-shirt, and an army green jacket that don't look very warm. She's not pretty, but she is attractive, her red hair distracting from some of her plainer features.

"Where's your stuff?" She looks around for a bag or suitcase, Rachel assumes. "My room is right upstairs so we can put it there before we eat."

"I left it at my friend's dorm." She pauses. "I think I'm going to spend the rest of the weekend with him."

"Allie didn't tell me that," Kylie says hesitantly.

"Allie doesn't know. Look Kylie, I was hoping you could cover for me. Jesse and I used to date and we reconnected this weekend and I really want to spend more time with him." She's not used to asking for favors from strangers and she doesn't know Kylie well enough to know how desperate she has to sound.

"No problem," Kylie responds immediately, "I know what that's like. Is he cute?" It's obvious to Rachel that Kylie lives for boys and the emotions that surround them. Rachel is shocked but pleased that was as easy as it was. She nods.

"Score. I want you to tell me all about him over lunch."

They sit with a table of Kylie's girlfriends who are all equally loud and vibrant. "Jesse freaking St. James is your _friend_?" Kylie shouts when she tells her Jesse's name. Rachel is pretty sure that everyone in the dining hall just heard her.

Rachel finds herself nodding a lot around this group.

"Well, Rach, you sure know how to pick them. He's in theater group with me and every girl and even some of the guys want him. You are one lucky bitch!"

Rachel cringes at the use of that term and the feeling of discomfort lodges in her stomach when Kylie describes for the rest of her friends the intricacies of Jesse's body, his attitude, his singing voice, and his hair.

Kylie ends with, "the things that he can probably do with that tongue," and Rachel's face heats up. Kylie is looking directly at her, obviously awaiting a response. It draws the attention of the rest of the girls and Rachel can only shrug, hoping she comes across as shy or modest, and not completely ignorant and inexperienced. Jesse's tongue did amazing things to her chest this morning, but any more than that she doesn't know.

Thankfully, the topic changes to Darren, Kylie's recent conquest and Rachel can listen, stay out of focus, the first time in her life that she genuinely wishes to do so.

Kylie is heading to the lecture too, and they bid goodbye to the other girls as they walk to the center of campus. She texts Jesse to tell him that she will meet him at the lecture hall. He's waiting for her outside when she and Kylie get there. Kylie gives him an obvious once over and winks at him, but Jesse pretends not to notice. The redhead sees someone else that she knows and wanders off to go find seats with them.

Rachel grabs Jesse and tells him that they need to lose Kylie, so they head to the back of the hall.

"Missed me?" he asks.

"I just had to sit through a half hour of how amazing you are. I tried to counter-argue but they wouldn't let me get a word in. You obviously have a fan club here."

"You have her number, right? In case I want to give her a call later? She's sort of cute."

She's in front, leading them towards seats, and she whips around to look at him. He's got one eyebrow raised at her, and is trying unsuccessfully to hide a smile.

"That's not funny," she huffs, crossing her arms. There are various people behind them shooting her obnoxious glances, wanting her to move.

She continues in her search for seats, not looking or speaking to him. She finds two together at the end of a row, by the wall, and she sits down with her arms still crossed.

"C'mon, Rach. I wasn't being serious. Haven't you realized by now that you are the only one I want?" He leans over and places a kiss to her forehead.

"_They_ want_ you_," she says seriously, "I can't compete with them from Ohio."

"You always have, and you've always won. You have nothing to worry about." He kisses her on the lips, manages to slip his tongue into her mouth. His hand wraps around her waist, lifts her sweater and rubs circles on her lower back, fingers dipping beneath the waistband of her skirt.

The introductory speaker's opening remarks interrupts them and Rachel looks around sheepishly, tugs on her sweater. Jesse looks perfectly in his element. He whispers into her ear that they should go home and take a nap after the lecture, since neither of them got much sleep the night before. She agrees.

The lecture is stimulating and humorous and Rachel is glad to be in a place where such discussions are commonplace. She takes out a notebook to take notes but Jesse soon distracts her, writing her notes in the margins and starting a game of hangman. She shakes her head at him but joins in. After the first hour, the lecture becomes less interesting and she is glad when Jesse suggests that they skip the Q&A session and just go back to the dorm.

At the entrance to the dorm, Jesse stops to check his mail and they run into one of his neighbors, Brad. Jesse does not look pleased.

Brad approaches him. "St. James, I'll see you at Alex's birthday party tonight, right? I hear they're making like a 1000 Jello shots."

Jesse glances at Rachel, runs a hand through his hair. "Maybe," he answers, "but I wouldn't bet on it. Rachel, Brad. Brad, Rachel," he says introducing them.

Brad nods at Rachel, but otherwise completely ignores her. "Alex promised lots of hot chicks and they're using Everclear in the punch."

Rachel sends Brad a glare but he doesn't catch on. "Hope to see you there, man. Coppertones know how to throw a good party."

Jesse doesn't say anything else but heads towards the elevator and up to his room, Rachel following

behind him.

Once in the room, Rachel's curiosity about the exchange downstairs gets the better of her. "So you and Brad are friends?"

Jesse shakes his head. "Brad's an asshole. I'm in an acapella group here on campus, the Coppertones. He's one of the seniors that are in the in the group with me."

"You never told me that!" Rachel exclaims. "Can we go to the party? I would love to hear you guys sing and meet some of your friends."

"I'm not sure that's a good idea, Rachel," he says, not looking at her. "Let's do something fun tonight. Anything you want. We can go see New York." He sounds excited about showing her the city, but she's still dwelling on the party, unwilling to let it go.

"We have tomorrow for that. Why isn't it a good idea to go to the party?"

He looks irritated that she won't let it go. Obviously, that makes her press the issue further.

"Jesse," she says pointedly.

He sighs, runs a hand through his hair and licks his lips.

"There's sort of a girl," he answers.


	12. Chapter 12

_**Sorry this took so long! School is getting busier. I think I have a plot worked out for the rest of this story so we may be in for another ten or so chapters. Thank you for all your amazing reviews. I hope this meets your expectations. **_

"You're seeing someone?"

She looks defeated, just like he expected. They really need to stop doing this – this back and forth – it's going to kill them both.

"No." He pauses. "She was never my girlfriend," he says matter of factly, and it's the truth, but he's struggling for a way to explain this that doesn't make him sound like too much of a dick. He's sure that the concept of casual sex won't go over too well with her, especially since they have yet to discuss the sexual part of their own relationship.

She had let him go further than he ever expected that morning by allowing him to take off her shirt. It had been perfect and incredible, and even though most people wouldn't believe him, he had been 100% satisfied. He'll never forget the look on her face as he had touched and caressed her for the first time. He's been replaying it in his head all day.

Its different with her, and whatever this is that they've been doing has been a slew of firsts for him too. The first time he told someone he loved them; first time he had spent two hours with a woman in bed without getting any; first time that he's willing to get into what he hopes is a long-term relationship. This, her, is what he wants.

"Meg's a junior. She's in Coppertones with me. She and I… we used to hook up after practice. It wasn't anything serious, at least I didn't think it was, until she asked me to come spend Thanksgiving with her at her parents house." He hesitates, tries to sense how she's taking this. Her face is blank.

"I told her no, that I was going to stay here. But then, after that, I wouldn't go back to her place when she invited me. I didn't want her to think that I wanted anything serious. She got the hint eventually. In hindsight, I probably could have handled it better." He shrugs his shoulders.

"She took it really badly and she's still bitter about it. She'll be at the party tonight and I know she will have something to say to you if I bring you."

"Is she pretty?" He can tell that she's trying to be nonchalant, but he can see right through her, and at the moment she feels insecure. He hates that he just did this to her.

He also knows that there is no point in lying to her. After this story, they are obviously going to this party tonight.

"Yes. She is." He opens his mouth to say something else, but anything he says will sound like he's trying to sugarcoat this.

He walks over to his computer, opens the student directory, types in a name, and finds her picture.

"That's her," he says pointing to a blond girl in the third picture from the top. She leans over the computer, looks at the picture and nods her head.

"Its always a blonde," she says quietly, looking away. He can hear tears coming.

"Rach, she doesn't mean anything to me. I haven't done anything with her since before Thanksgiving and I've been trying to avoid her ever since."

"So you could make a joke about dating Kylie and all the other girls that are drooling over you here, and you didn't see it fit to tell me that you had actually been serious with someone?" She knows she has a point. He knows it too.

"Rachel, I can't take back the fact that I slept with her, or anyone else I've been with for that matter." He sighs. "Both of us have pasts." He's proud of himself for not mentioning Finn's name.

"But I never did anything with Finn!" she almost shouts. "The thought of you touching her, her touching you makes me crazy."

He feels a sick sense of satisfaction when he hears that she hasn't done anything with Finn. He had assumed as much this morning, but it's nice to get the confirmation. He realizes just how screwed up that is given their current argument.

"It's different between us, Rachel," he says softly, looking at her.

"How? How is it different?" She wipes at the tears that have finally escaped.

"Because those other times, I was just in it for me. I just cared about me, not about the girl. With you, your happiness, your pleasure is more important to me than my own. It makes me happy to make you happy, in every sense of the word. I really hope that you can feel that."

After a long time, she nods. "We're going to that party," she states.

"I know," he responds.

"I want to show her and all of them that you're taken." He nods. "Happily and thankfully taken," he confirms.

She walks over to him, and into his arms. "I want to make you happy too," she whispers into his chest.

"You already do," he says, looking down at her. "We just have to stop doing this to each other. No more arguments."

"Truce?"

"Truce." She smiles.

"How about that nap?" he asks, "I think we've both been on an emotional rollercoaster today."

Rachel wakes them up at nine because she wants at least an hour and a half to get ready for the party. She goes into the shower while he orders dinner for the two of them from his favorite Mediterranean place around the corner. When he returns from picking up their food, she is standing by her open bag looking contemplative, hair wet and dressed again in her pajamas.

He sets the food down on the desk, reaches for his hoard of Styrofoam plates and plastic utensils that he's accumulated from the various take out places within a 5-block radius. He hears her sigh and looks over his shoulder. She's looking at a sweater with a picture of an owl on it with distaste.

"What should I wear?" she prompts him. "I didn't really come prepared for a party."

"Wear whatever you want. It's only a house party. No one will be more dressed up than jeans anyway." He grabs a falafel ball and bites into it then offers her one.

"I want to look good," she says, accepting the ball and the bag of pita that he passes over.

"You always look good, Rach," he says playfully, toying with the end of her wet hair with his free hand. "You're sneaky hot, remember?" She rolls her eyes.

"I'm not dressing up for _you_," she says impatiently.

"What about this?" he asks her, reaching into her suitcase to appease her. He's holding up a navy and grey striped long-sleeved V-neck sweater that will catch her just below her butt.

"I don't have a shirt to wear under it and its really low cut," she complains. "Daddy just bought it for me and told me to bring it. He thought it looked collegiate." She chuckles. "I think its because those were his alma mater's colors."

She catches a glimpse of his scarf hanging off the edge of his closet door, and inspiration dawns on her. Without shame, she takes off her pajama top and pulls the sweater on over her black lace bra, undoing the first couple buttons so her bra is just visible. She takes a long look in the mirror behind his door.

He looks surprised, but definitely appreciates how the sweater clings to her hips. She smiles at him and pulls the sweater back over her head, leaning over to give him a kiss when her arms are free. "This is perfect. Thank you." He's not sure what exactly he's being thanked for but he lets it go.

He puts on some music while they eat, and after about 15 minutes she literally pushes him into the bathroom to start getting himself ready so that she can take over most of the space in the bedroom for herself.

Since he has almost an hour before they can even think about leaving, he decides to shave. Rachel had made fun of his stubble that morning, stating that college had made his tendency for fastidious grooming somewhat lax.

He leaves the door open while he strips down to his boxers, lathers his face with shaving cream and prepares his razor. After a couple of strokes of the blade, he realizes that she is watching him.

He smiles at her. "What?" he asks. "Just taking some of your earlier comments about my facial hygiene to heart."

"Can I try?" she asks. He looks confused for a minute and she seems to notice. She points to the razor. "I want to do it for you." She doesn't know what possesses her to ask, but he's captivating her attention. He seems so masculine and sexy in this moment.

He's still a bit confused as to how this will work and terrified that she will unknowingly slit his throat, but he holds out his hand to give the razor to her. She steps into the bathroom and accepts it, stopping directly in front of him so that he can feel her breath.

He braces his left hand against the small counter and tilts his chin down to her. She rests her left hand on his bare chest, her right holding the razor by her side.

"Your heart is racing," she says quietly. He nods. "How many times have we seen Sweeney Todd together?" he jokes. She shoves him a little with her left hand, but it's not strong enough for him to move.

She raises the razor to his face, makes one short stroke, terrified that she is using too much pressure and she will cut through the skin. She gains confidence, and soon she's got most of his face done. The way he is looking at her is intoxicating. The bathroom is silent except for their breathing, both of them intently concentrating on what she is doing.

She tries to twist her wrist to shave the underside of his jaw, but the angle is off. He backs up, sits on the covered toilet, her towering above him. He tilts his chin up to her to give her access, but now she's too tall. She ends up straddling his left knee to finish, the inside of her left knee brushing against his straining erection.

When she's done, she reaches behind her to put the razor in the sink and wipes his face with the towel behind her on the rack. Now, they are both holding their respective breaths and she's looking him directly in the eye. He's not sure what's coming.

She holds his face in both her hands and kisses him. He shudders at the contact, moves so that one hand rests on her hip, the other on her back. He's not paying attention to where her hands are going until he feels one attempting to get into his boxers.

He breaks their kiss and moves one of his hands to cover hers over the fabric, effectively stopping her from going any further. She doesn't seem perturbed, kisses him at the pulse point on his neck.

"Rachel… you don't have to do this." He tries to turn her face towards his, so he can look into her eyes, his other hand is still immobilizing hers. "You don't have anything to prove to me."

"Are you exercising your veto?" She whispers the question against his ear. She leans back to look at him, searching for an answer. He reaches forward to kiss her at the same time that he lets her hand go.

He tugs at the strings of her pajama pants after he comes back down to earth. She smiles, shakes her head. "Veto."

"Rach," he pleads softly. "Let me." He knows that three minutes ago she was pressing herself into his thigh and he wants to make her feel good too.

She stands, washes her hands, and looks down at him. "You really need a shower," she giggles.

When he gets out of the shower, she's curling her hair in the mirror. He comes up behind her and she puts the hot iron down on his desk.

"You are amazing. That was … so hot." He kisses her on the cheek, encircles her waist with his arms, looks at her through the mirror. "Please let me repay the favor."

She shakes her head, rubs her left cheek with the side of her hand. "Later, maybe. After the party."

He looks disappointed, but he doesn't push. "I owe you one," he whispers into her ear, "Or maybe more than one." She blushes, refuses to meet his eyes in the mirror.

She hadn't planned on doing for him what she did tonight. She had always thought that she would be the main beneficiary of their initial forays into sexual pleasure. He had so much more experience, had so much to teach her. But she is glad that it happened the way it did. Seeing him like that, so turned on and aroused because of her, and then seeing him fall apart just from her hand had empowered her in a way she didn't think was possible.

As she heads to the party to meet this girl, she thinks she might have needed that moment in his bathroom as much as he did tonight.


	13. Chapter 13

They are walking the 10-blocks to the party when Rachel stops mid-stride, coming to a terrifying realization. Jesse stops abruptly alongside her, looking slightly worried.

"They don't card at these parties, Rachel. No one will be over twenty-one."

"No, that's not it," she says. "She's in an acapela group with you! Does she sing? Is she …?"

He cuts her off with a kiss. "Not even close," he says affirmatively. "And, no, that does not mean you can challenge her to a sing off," he continues half-jokingly.

"I can't believe that wasn't the first thing I thought of," she says quietly. She thinks that means something. It was the first thing she had thought of when she had heard Sunshine sing in the bathroom, the first thing that crossed her mind when she had the chance to hear her own mother sing to her for the first time.

All she has been able to think of is that this pretty blonde girl wants Jesse, and, apparently, that is a bigger threat to her than any potential competition in the talent department.

That's the moment that she knows she is in over her head. Whereas she had survived their first breakup, it was only because she had never trusted him completely. Even with as much as she had given to him then, there was a part of her that was always hesitant, always a little too careful. He had broken her heart, and she had expected him to. He had broken her heart _because _she had expected him to.

This time, she's all in, but the stakes are higher. They have the peace of this weekend, but once she heads back to Lima, she has a soon to be ex-boyfriend, overprotective dads and a long distance relationship to deal with. If this is to end badly, she knows she may never recover. But this time, knowing he's all in too; it's worth the risk.

They walk in silence the rest of the way there. Jesse stops outside of an apartment building from which is spewing music that she's been hearing for at least two blocks. She can see masses of people through the windows facing the street on the second floor and still more people are going into the building. He tugs on her wrist, keeps her from walking up the steps and pulls her against him.

"I don't know what you see happening here tonight, Rachel, but it's just a party. There's going to be a ton of stupid, drunk people. Meg's only one person and she doesn't matter, regardless of what she says to you." He kisses her softly on the lips. "We can leave whenever you want."

She nods and he keeps her hand in his as he leads her into the building. The door of the apartment that the party is being held in is actually thumping, and Jesse stops them before going inside so that he can remove their coats. She's dressed warmly for the cold outside in the sweater, leggings, boots and his scarf, but the heat radiating from the apartment is stifling.

She tugs at her sweater and he tells her that she looks great. She's briefly reminded of how he had her pressed up against his door for twenty minutes after he saw her all done up, and how she almost gave in to staying in for the night.

They finally walk into the apartment and Jesse hands their coats to someone. She tries to spot Meg, but it's pointless. The room is dark, the music is loud and she can only make out general outlines of people. Jesse seems better at it, and he lifts his hand to signal someone in one of the far corners of the room.

They maneuver their way over to this person, pushing past sweaty bodies and getting drenched in beer in the process. When they get over there, she realizes that there is a little niche in which ten or so people are seated on couches, the windowsill or the floor. They are each nursing a bottle of beer. Shouts of "St. James" overpower even the din. These are the Coppertones, Rachel assumes.

They reach the person that Jesse signaled and Jesse introduces them. They have to lean in very close to hear what each other is saying. It's a bit quieter over here, but not much.

"John, this is Rachel. Rachel, this is John. He's the only other person in Coppertones who's also in theater with me."

John reaches out and he and Rachel shake hands. "Wait a minute, St. James, is this _the_ Rachel?" 

Jesse hits John sharply on his shoulder, but laughs. "Yes, this is _the_ Rachel. She's visiting from Ohio."

To say that Rachel's curiosity is peaked is an understatement. It's short-lived though.

"How did this asshole," John says, pointing at Jesse, "How did he get you to forgive him? On behalf of all men, everywhere, I think you need to tell me the answer." He sounds completely serious, but then he winks at her.

Rachel laughs, but she's surprised that Jesse has obviously told this guy about their previous relationship and how badly it ended.

"He's my best friend here," Jesse whispers in her ear when he senses Rachel's hesitation. "No one else knows our history." Rachel decides to play along.

"He invited me to Paris, took me on the perfect date, and let me throw snowballs in his hair." John laughs, expecting a more serious answer to follow, but Rachel's not about to explain any further. What happened between her and Jesse this weekend defies a short explanation.

Jesse wraps an arm around her waist. "Yeah, that's all it took. Go tell everyone the secret to happiness. It'll make millions."

She can see that some of the other people in the group are coming over to greet Jesse and to figure out who she is. She feels Jesse's fingertips start to draw circles against her side.

"Rach, this is the rest of the group: Micah, Amy, Lexi, Miriam, Noah, James, Meg, and Julie. It's Alex's birthday party, so he's out there somewhere. Everyone this is Rachel."

She notices that she gets a few waves and a few "Hi's" but her attention is focused on one person. Actually, the attention of all the girls in the group is focused on one person. The girls are casting sideway glances at Meg. One of them, Lexi, Rachel remembers, is trying hard not to smile.

Meg is wearing a short, strapless, tight shimmery silver dress with bare legs and platform heels. It's January, Rachel thinks, and there is snow on the ground.

Lexi is the first to speak, and Rachel is trying hard to determine if she's a foe or an ally, but it's too hard to guess since they are all practically shouting. "Are you a freshman too, Rachel?"

"No. I'm a junior in high school back in Ohio. I'm applying to NYU though. I'm here on a campus visit as part of the Junior Admissions program."

"So you and Jesse went to the same high school back in Ohio?"

Rachel glances at Jesse. Even the answer to that simple question is complicated. "No, we went to different schools. We were in rival glee clubs. That's how we met."

Meg speaks up. "That's funny. The way Jesse tells the stories, Vocal Adrenaline didn't have any competition."

It's Jesse who answers. "Rachel was it. She carried her entire team and gave us a run for our money."

Meg is nonplussed. "Not enough, apparently. Didn't you win Nationals four times?" Her question is addressed to Jesse, but she's looking at Rachel.

"We'll beat them this year," Rachel says confidently, giving a false smile even though she believes her statement completely.

"Yes, because Jesse is here with us," Meg says with a laugh. "Makes it easier for you doesn't it?"

"You obviously haven't heard Rachel sing," Jesse says pointedly, though his tone is still friendly. He looks over at Rachel and smiles.

The others have been silently watching the exchange with interest. John in particular looks like he wants to jump in.

John has just asked how Rachel likes NYU when someone comes over and calls for the Coppertone men to help bring in some bags of ice and to set up the beer pong table. Where exactly this table is going to go, Rachel's not sure.

Everyone in the group can sense Jesse's hesitancy to leave Rachel as the other boys move towards the other side of the apartment. Meg takes the opportunity to grab on to Rachel's forearm. "Go ahead Jesse. This will give us girls a chance to talk about you guys."

Rachel smiles at Jesse, asks him to bring her back a beer. Jesse raises his eyebrow at her, but she doesn't know whether it's in response to the Meg situation or her request for a drink. Maybe both.

Jesse's been gone for about two seconds when Meg pounces. "I fucked your boyfriend," she says maliciously, "A lot." Some of the girls gasp at Meg's audacity, the others let out nervous laughs.

Rachel swallows hard, tries to keep her tone steady, even though she feels like crying. "I know."

She can tell that Meg hadn't expected this to be her answer, but it doesn't take her long to recover.

"You look twelve. Heck, you are twelve. Your breasts are non-existent and your nose gives Dumbo a run for his money. Unless you give one hell of a blowjob, I don't get what he sees in you. He can obviously do better. In fact, he has done better." She steps closer to Rachel and, with the heels she has on, she's got a good seven inches on her.

Objectively speaking, Rachel has received worse insults. But Meg's come with images and truths she would rather not envision. Though part of her wants to hit or insult back, her dads always taught her that the root of all bullying is insecurity, and this bit of wisdom has never failed her once.

"Look, Meg," she says calmly. "If Jesse wants to be with you, I won't stand in his way. I'm not forcing him to be with me and I won't be with someone who wants someone else."

She stops, assesses her audience, and she can tell that she has earned some respect from the peanut gallery behind Meg. The taller girl was obviously gearing up for something way more intense than Rachel's indifference.

"Good luck getting him to want you," Rachel says with bite.

"You really think Jesse is a good little boy?" She scoffs. "What do you think is going to happen once you go back to Ohio?" Meg says, crossing her arms across her chest.

Rachel shrugs for effect, anticipating the effect that her words will have. "The same thing that's been happening since Thanksgiving."

She definitely won that round. Meg is fuming.

Lexi breaks the tension, but her question doesn't help. "So Rachel," she says conversationally, as if nothing just happened, "How long have you and Jesse been together?"

Rachel refuses to give any power to Meg after she just gained the upper hand. No way is she telling them that she and Jesse have been back together for only about 16 hours.

"You want that in days, hours or minutes?" Jesse answers from directly behind Rachel. He reaches her side and hands her the beer.

"Didn't know you to be that sappy, St. James," Julie chides. Jesse smiles good-naturedly and turns his attention to Rachel.

"Do you want to dance?" She nods, not bothering to say anything else to the girls before she allows Jesse to lead her away.

"Want to give me a run down of what happened back there?" He slides his arms around her waist and she reaches behind him to put her untouched beer bottle on one of the shelves of a nearby bookshelf then wrap her arms around his neck. They're not actually dancing, just swaying to the music.

"I told her that if you wanted her that I wasn't going to stand in your way." He looks quizzically at her. "I don't want her."

"Exactly." Jesse laughs, pulls her closer.

He kisses the side of her neck but his scarf stops him from getting too far. "Off," he says, "It's a hundred degrees in here."

She pulls back. "Jesse, what are you going to do when I go back to Ohio?" She takes a deep breath. "I mean about sex?"

He unwraps his arms from around her waist, uses them to untangle his scarf from around her neck. He runs his finger down towards her chest, taking full advantage of the low cut neckline of her sweater.

He sighs. "I plan to make very good friends with my right hand and try to get back to Ohio whenever possible."

She leans her head against his chest. She knows they are having a much more serious discussion than either of them are letting on.

"I'm not sure I'm ready to have sex yet." She says it cautiously, hoping that earlier hadn't given him too high hopes for the rest of her time here.

"That's fine, Rach," he says honestly. He looks at her. "I hope I didn't push you too hard tonight."

"No. I wanted to … to do that for you and I want you to …" Here she trails off. She doesn't know how to ask him to give her an orgasm. He's already offered. Twice. She's thought about it, she's curious and she wants one, with him. It scares her how badly she wants one. It's not that she hasn't felt the need before, it's just the first time she'll allow herself to go after it.

Even with all the Meg drama tonight, having sex with Jesse has become a 'when' and not an 'if.' She's not exactly sure when she made that decision. She and herself probably need to have a caucus.

"Plan on it," he says, before he claims her lips again.

_**Sort of an in-between chapter. More angst and more story coming. **_


	14. Chapter 14

_**Short, fluffy chapter … til the end ;-)**_

They spend a couple of hours at the party. For lack of anything else to drink, Rachel does end up finishing a beer and out of curiosity tries a jello shot and a taste of whatever Jesse was drinking. When the heat inside the apartment becomes too unbearable, she and Jesse step out unto the apartment's fire escape where she gets to know John better and gets more of a picture of what Jesse's life is at school when she's not there. What his life will be like when she leaves on Sunday.

She's been enjoying dancing close to him, knowing that Meg can see and is watching, even as the blonde dances with other guys. But even the joy from that is fading as everyone around them is now a little too drunk and they are both not. When Jesse threatens to hit some guy for squeezing her butt, she tells him that they should go.

When they get back to his room, she heads straight for the shower. She reeks of beer and smoke and smells completely gross. He digs out the remainder of their dinner from the mini fridge and starts snacking on the hummus. It's obvious that neither of them is particularly sleepy, likely because of their late nap that evening.

While he is in the shower, she gets on his computer to check her email, but she hasn't missed anything important. She writes a quick message to her dads, telling them about the French class and the lecture, but saves it to drafts when she realizes that it's almost three in the morning and she doesn't want to give them reason to be suspicious. She opens his music library, needing something to fill the quiet, and realizes that this was one of the things she had missed most about him.

He has an amazing music collection that she loved to raid. Whereas she is usually more than willing to give all her pocket money to Itunes, Jesse has elaborate means of getting his music, being well-versed in internet downloads and file sharing websites. He also has the most eclectic tastes of anyone she has ever met, including Mr. Scheuster and his weird combination of hip hop and show tunes. She had only once thought of a song that Jesse did not own, and he had argued for hours that no one over the age of 6 owned a Wiggles CD. He had bought one after the concert.

She makes a mental note that they have to sing together again before she leaves.

She's looking at his Top 25 most played list and is puzzled by what is at the top. He may have eclectic tastes, but he still has his usuals. This particular song is from the Sex and the City Soundtrack, not a movie that she would readily associate with him. She's about to click the song to play it but the bathroom door opens, and she feels as if she's been caught red-handed. She literally jumps and he notices, looks over in concern.

"You okay?"

"Yes. I'm just stalking you by looking through your music collection. What's so special about the song The Heart of the Matter? I wouldn't have guessed that you were an India Arie fan or a Sex and the City fan for that matter. If the Wiggles are for six year olds, Sex and the City is for thirty something single, bitter women." She says the last part teasingly, but she gets worried when he doesn't respond immediately.

He walks over to the desk, pulls a pair of sweat pants out of the drawer and puts them on over his boxers.

"It's a really sad song. I heard it on the radio one day and thought it described how I felt about our relationship perfectly and I've listened to it," he pauses, winces, "A lot."

"Can I hear it?" She asks softly, almost hesitantly. He nods, goes to sit on his bed, leaning back against the wall. She clicks 'Play,' and leans back in his desk chair. As the instrumental starts, she reconsiders, unplugs the laptop from its power cord and takes it to sit with him on his bed. She lays the computer flat on the bed, sits next to him.

"It feels really weird listening to this song with you," he says, whispering loudly over the first verse. She shushes him, concentrates really hard on the lyrics.

_I got the call today, I didn't wanna hear  
But I knew that it would come  
An old true friend of ours was talkin' on the phone  
She said you found someone  
And I thought of all the bad luck,  
And all the struggles we went through  
And how I lost me and you lost you  
What are all these voices outside love's open door  
Make us throw off our contentment  
And beg for something more?_

I've been learning to live without you now  
But I miss you sometimes  
The more I know, the less I understand  
All the things I thought I knew, I'm learning them again  
I've been tryin' to get down to the Heart of the Matter  
But my will gets weak  
And my thoughts seem to scatter  
But I think it's about forgiveness  
Forgiveness  
Even if, even if you don't love me anymore

These times are so uncertain  
There's a yearning undefined  
and people filled with rage  
We all need a little tenderness  
How can love survive in such a graceless age?

"This is the part that got me," he says with a smile.

_and the trust and self-assurance that can lead to happiness  
are the very things we kill, I guess  
Pride and competition cannot fill these empty arms  
And the wall we put between us,  
Doesn't keep us warm_

I've been trying to live without you now  
But I miss you, Baby  


…

She pauses the song and looks at him. She feels like crying, the song is so poignant and he always did have a knack for using music to express what he is feeling.

"I thought about sending that song to you so many times," he says. "I didn't think you would be interested."

"I missed you too; the whole time. I always loved you and I forgive you, for everything. You know that, right?"

"I do now. Before yesterday, I wasn't so sure." He means it to be funny but when he looks at her, she still looks depressed.

"I think I effectively killed the mood," he says jokingly. She shakes her head. "We just need a new song."

They fiddle on his computer for a while, playing different songs, some of them joke suggestions and it feels normal, like old times. At one point they're laughing and she looks over at him, realizes something.

"Most of it _was_ real," she says with certainty, "We used to do all of this."

He lifts his head from the computer to meet her eyes, then nods. "This time feels better, though."

"Why?"

"Because I'm not waiting for it to be over." He fiddles with the ends of her hair, curling them around his finger. "I used to feel like I was carrying a weight around my neck when I was with you. Every word, every kiss was torture. I thought the next minute you would figure it out, kick me out of your life."

She understands what he means. She feels the same way. She had been waiting to have to kick him out of her life the entire duration of their relationship. Now, she's not waiting for everything to self-destruct anymore. She thinks that's why this time she's being so much more open with her feelings, her body. Why she feels like she can be completely honest with him and she expects him to be completely honest with her.

A question formulates in her mind and it leaves her mouth without her official consent.

"Why Meg?"

He sighs. "Rachel. Let's not go back there."

She may not have been sure of asking the question before, but now she needs his answer.

She shakes her head. "Answer the question."

"Because she offered. Because she wanted me. Because she didn't expect a commitment." He reconsiders. "Well, not in the beginning. And because she reminded me of how uncomplicated my life was before you, and I wanted to try to forget you. Obviously, that didn't work."

"Why Finn?"

She's shocked that he asked her that question. She knows that she shouldn't be. He can give as good as she can. It doesn't matter if he already knows the answer.

"We've already talked about that," she says softly. Finn is still a raw spot for her. As far as he knows, she's been the perfect girlfriend all weekend when in reality she's been professing her love to someone else. Someone he hates.

But she knows that she has to answer.

"He was my first kiss, my first serious crush." She almost laughs when Jesse scowls. "We were the leads of the glee club. I thought we were destined to be together," she finishes with a dramatic lilt to her voice.

He leans over to kiss her. He takes his time and it's slow and soft. Then, there is tongue involved and she is seeing colors again. She makes a noise when he pulls away and she doesn't have to have her eyes open to know that he is smirking at her.

"You are a much better kisser, Jesse," she says, as if it should be obvious. She rolls her eyes although she secretly thinks its funny when his macho side shows up. He's taken a lot of slack for being a boy who loves theater. Sort of like her.

She thinks he is going to kiss her again but he reaches over to his laptop, finds another song, then stands up, places the computer on his desk, turns off the light and walks back to the bed.

"So this one may seem like an odd choice too," he explains, "But don't laugh. I think that this is one of the most romantic songs I've ever heard."

She chuckles as the sounds of Turn Your Lights Down Low by Bob Marley and Lauryn Hill reach her ear.

"I want to give you some love. I want to give you some good good loving," he sings to her as he sits back down on the bed. She laughs, but the song truly is beautiful.

"Ooh I love you, and I want you to know right now," she sings back, as he lies down next to her.

Then they are kissing again, and the song fades into the background. At some point, he trails his hand down between her legs, and it feels like something she wants. She nods against his forehead for him to go ahead.

Later, they are lying together and talking about everything and nothing. He opens up to her about his family, his first kiss, and how he lost his virginity, which should be a weirder thing to talk about after what they just did. She tells him about growing up with her dads, and all the bad things that happened to her that she had to hide from them. She tells him how embarrassing her first period had been because it had happened earlier than they had expected and they hadn't given her the talk yet.

They don't make a conscious decision to go to bed, but at some point they both fall asleep.

They had planned to sleep in as much as they could before going to see the city, but they are again woken up prematurely by the shrill sound of a phone ringing. This time it's his. She reaches it first, looks at the caller ID, stares at it in disbelief for a second.

He seems to be waiting for her to say something, but she can't. Instead, she hands the phone to him, reaches for her pajama pants on the floor, wanting to get away. He grabs her hand, pulls her back to the bed. Though she falls, she refuses to look at him.

He answers the phone, still holding tightly onto her arm, refusing to let her go anywhere.

"Hi, Shelby."


	15. Chapter 15

She feels like crying and she hates herself for letting him make her feel this way. She's naked except for her panties and he's holding onto her so tightly that she can't reach for her pants or shirt from where he tossed them on the floor. He's on the phone with Shelby. The fact that they are in bed together and he is on the phone with her mother is bad enough, but Shelby is also the woman that told Jesse to lie to her and then rejected her for Quinn Fabray's daughter. The entire situation is just awkward.

She's sure that it was only hours ago that he had made her feel the best thing she had ever felt in her entire life. His fingers had been inside her, on her, and she can't understand how that feeling had been possible the whole time and she had never been aware of it. He had seen her at her most undone and then they had talked for hours. She had never felt more comfortable, more secure, more trusting of anyone.

She feels the tears on her cheeks at the same time that she realizes that she can hear Shelby's voice as if she were standing in the room with them. Curiosity gets the better of her and she turns her head, realizing that Jesse has placed his phone on speakerphone.

She looks at him and she can tell that it's an invitation to stay, to listen. He's not hiding anything from her anymore.

He lets go of her hand, giving her free choice as to whether to stay or not. She stretches for her shirt, pulls it over her head, but stays seated on the edge of the bed.

Shelby sounds slightly frantic. "Rachel is there, Jesse."

Rachel has unconsciously made the decision that she and Jesse are still on the same side, and she looks at him worriedly, both of them thinking they've been caught.

Jesse can actually voice his confusion. "What?"

"There was an article in the Ohio Times yesterday. Rachel is on some sort of program at NYU. She's there this weekend so you need to avoid her."

He glances at Rachel. "Okay."

Shelby doesn't seem like she heard Jesse's answer. "She doesn't know that you're there, right? You haven't told very many people. But, just in case, I don't want to hurt her anymore so stay away from her!"

Jesse sounds genuinely annoyed and Rachel feels a twinge of something, sympathy maybe. "Fine, Shelby."

Shelby lets out a breath. Rachel and Jesse can hear the sounds of a baby in the background.

"Look, Jesse. I know that you are angry with me," she pauses, "About everything. I screwed up."

He doesn't respond. Rachel moves quietly so that she is lying back on the bed, turns to face him.

Shelby continues, but she sounds softer than before. "But… but if you do happen to see her, catch a glance of her maybe, can you call me? I just want to know if she looks happy, if she's enjoying herself. I can't believe she's going to NYU. That was always my fantasy."

There's a pause. "She's going to make it. She's going to be bigger that I ever dreamed."

Jesse looks Rachel dead in the eye as he replies, "Yes. Yes she is."

"God. How did I screw this up this badly? She's going to college next year and I'm never going to see her again, have the chance to speak to her again." She sighs, continues to vent.

"It's so much easier with a baby. Beth doesn't have anyone else to compare me to. Rachel's got these two great dads, she's already this fully-formed person with dreams and opinions, and a life. Am I supposed to be her girlfriend? Am I supposed to listen to her as she complains about her boyfriend and talk to her about sex and take her shopping? I want to be her mom!"

The context of this entire conversation would be hilarious, Rachel realizes, if it wasn't so raw. She's fighting the urge to jump in and do some venting of her own, all targeted at Shelby.

Jesse can sense her hesitation. He takes a chance, links his hand with hers. He's pleased when she doesn't pull away.

He's looking at her as he responds to Shelby, speaks for both of them. "That's your problem, Shelby. You need to stop thinking about yourself. Rachel and I aren't just pawns in your world. What about what she wants? Doesn't she get a say in what kind of relationship she would like to have with you?"

"That's very self-righteous of you, Jesse. Did you ask her what she wanted before you tried to get into her pants?" She sounds angry and Jesse knows that he has touched a nerve.

Jesse ignores the comment because he doesn't want to revisit it. He and Rachel have already moved past that, even if Shelby doesn't know it. Shelby had never understood the true scope of his feelings for Rachel, which is why he hadn't spoken to her in months. She was so self-centered; she had never realized how much her scheme had cost him too.

Shelby doesn't do dramatic silence as well as he can. "So what should I do?"

He looks over at Rachel, but she is not meeting his eyes, unsure of the answer herself. "I don't know," he finally says.

Shelby sighs, and the baby starts to fuss. "If you see her, I would appreciate a call." He mumbles out an okay and they hang up.

There is silence for a few minutes as they both digest the phone call. Finally, Rachel looks up at him. "Thank you for that."

He nods. "I haven't spoken to her in months, not since the summer. She gets too caught up in herself, Rachel. She goes after what she wants for herself and that's all that matters. That's why she coaches Vocal Adrenaline like it's a boot camp; that's why she didn't think twice about breaking your dads' contract; that's why she adopted Beth and broke off her relationship with you."

Rachel nods. "She is selfish. But we would have never met if it weren't for her. Or maybe we would have eventually, but we would have never fallen in love. Maybe this is how it was supposed to happen."

Jesse is surprised at her analysis of the situation. He'd never thought about it like that before and is surprised that she has.

She runs a hand through his hair. "Whatever happens between she and I … I would do it all again if it brought me back here with you."

She shifts closer to him, turns so her back is against his chest. He wraps his arms around her.

"Last night was amazing," she says softly. She raises his right hand to her lips, kisses it. "I'm still exhausted."

"We're okay?" he asks, because he's still not sure he believes it. She nods against him. "Sleep."

Jesse surprises her with tickets for one of those hop on – hop off tourist buses and they spend their entire afternoon at all the major NYC landmarks. They make Times Square their last stop, and stand in line to buy discount tickets to see Kristen Chenoweth in the 8pm showing of Promises, Promises. They meet the tiny star at the stage door after the show, and after Rachel tells her that she will be on Broadway someday, Kristen writes 'To Rachel, a future Broadway star' on Rachel's Playbill. Rachel could not have imagined a more perfect introduction to her future city.

It's nearing midnight, but Rachel does not want to go home because she knows that she has to leave New York and Jesse in about twelve hours. But Times Square is a madhouse on a Saturday night and since neither of them are twenty-one, they don't have that many options for where to go.

She doesn't want the magic of the night to end. "Can we go back and sing in that great spot in the music building?" she asks, grasping at straws for something to do.

"They lock the music building at midnight. We won't make it there in time." He's just as melancholy as she is. "We can watch a movie," he suggests.

"I won't be able to pay attention," she says. They're walking hand in hand from the closest metro stop from his dorm. Reluctantly, they head back to his room.

She's still making suggestions. "We can play cards or truth or dare, or checkers." He turns on some music, a light jazz to dance to. He asks her to dance and she accepts, giggling.

"We go back to reality tomorrow," he states.

She nods, doesn't say anything.

He's resigned himself to the fact that they have to talk about this. "What are you going to tell Finn?"

She draws in a deep breath. "That we can't be together anymore. That we should just be friends."

"You're not going to tell him about us?" He tries to sound normal because he doesn't want to insist that she let Finn know that she's taken so that he won't try anything, even if that's what he wants to do.

"Jesse…" she starts, and he's not encouraged by where this is going. "They won't understand if we're back together. They might try to kick me out of the club again."

"_They_ won't understand or Finn won't understand?" She sighs, and he's trying really hard to be honest with her, but not get her angry.

"We love each other. We're together. Does it matter if they don't know?" He wants to tell her that it does matter, even if he can't explain why.

She doesn't wait for his answer. "I've been thinking. I'll get a job so that I can help pay for plane tickets and I can try to talk my dads into letting me come up here to visit you. I think they'll go for it if they know we're being careful."

"You're going to tell your dads about us?" She looks at him in surprise, then answers, "Of course."

He genuinely laughs. "You must be the only teenage girl in the world that has a secret boyfriend that she hides from her friends and not from her parents."

She smiles, but he's not done. "They're obviously not very good friends."

She shrugs. "They never have been, but they're all I've got there. Unless you want to transfer back to McKinley."

He twirls her, dips her low. "No thank you," he laughs. "Plus that wouldn't work so well for not telling Finn."

"I wish I could just stay here with you, enroll here tomorrow."

He draws her back against his chest. "Me too."

"You trust me with Finn, right?" She asks suddenly. He nods, because he does trust her. "I do. But he's not going to give you up easily. You know that right?"

She reaches up to kiss him, slips her tongue into his mouth. She hopes that is reassurance enough for him.

They've pretty much stopped moving and they're just swaying back and forth.

She breaks the silence. "Do you want to?" It's their last night alone for who knows how long, and there is a part of her that wants to leave a bit more of herself with him.

He knows what she means. "As much as I do, its not the best way to say goodbye." He kisses the top of her head.

She sighs dramatically. "Then what is?"

_**Another in-between chapter. The next chapter will restart the angst!**_


	16. Chapter 16

_**This might be my new favourite chapter! Not much Jesse, though. **_

On the plane, Rachel leans her head back against the seat, replaying the weekend in her head. She skates over the parts that had her in tears, and focuses on the parts with the laughs, kisses and gasps of pleasure.

Even though she and Jesse hadn't had sex last night, they had still ended up practically naked in his bed. They had both been ravenous for each other, committing every inch of skin, every sigh and moan to memory as they prepared to say goodbye.

That had been the hardest part. When they had finally gotten out of bed, he had taken her to breakfast, sitting with her on one side of the booth as they both ate one handed, arms wrapped around each other. At the airport, he had presented her with a purple NYU sweatshirt that he must have bought days ago; it had been that long since they had been apart. He had stayed with her as long as he could, drying her tears and waving to her as she finally made her way to the gate. She misses him already.

She feels different; older somehow. She doesn't think its simply because she is now way more sexually experienced than she was when she left Lima. She thinks that a big part of it is that she's gotten a taste of her future, and she wants more. She'll be back as soon as she can.

She's enjoying the lull of the flight before she lands and reality sets in again. Her dads are meeting her at the airport and she's planning to use the car ride home to talk to them about Jesse and breaking up with Finn.

Her dads had always loved Jesse. It was obvious that he shared many of the same interests and values as her family did, even if his upbringing had been completely different. When she had come home covered in egg and tears back in April, they were more baffled than angry.

Granted, Rachel hadn't told them about Shelby so as not to hurt their feelings. With those redactions, the story had sounded like Jesse had engaged in some grade school behavior by throwing eggs at Rachel when goaded by his former team. Yes, it was juvenile, but this, in her dads' eyes, meant only one thing. It was obvious to them that Jesse liked, possibly even loved, their daughter and couldn't deal with it. Teenage boys were moronic, yes, but they weren't exactly incomprehensible.

But they had remained silent while Rachel went on tirade after tirade wishing every pestilence and plague on Jesse, hoping that he would be eaten by lions. They rubbed her back and brought her glasses of water, leaving them by her bedside at night. They had continued to nod and support her when she had convinced herself that Finn was the boy that she wanted to be with, resigning themselves to the fact that she had to make her own mistakes.

She texts Jesse as soon as her plane lands. He responds within seconds, saying that he already misses her and tells her that he loves her in French. She responds with a much longer sentence in French that she is confident he will have to Google translate and the thought makes her smile.

It doesn't take long for her to spot her dads when she enters the terminal. They're both holding a huge, sparkling sign with her name on it followed by a gold star. She is so distracted by the sign and their willingness to indulge her dramatic tendencies that she doesn't immediately notice the boy that is with them. All six foot three of him.

When she finally does notice him, the smile fades from her face and she gets a sinking feeling in her stomach. She thought that she would have some time to sort things out before she faced Finn. But they have all spotted her, so she plants a smile on her face, and walks over to them.

They each give her a hug, and Finn kisses her on the cheek, telling her that he missed her and that she forgot to call all weekend. She's glad when her dad interrupts and she doesn't have to give Finn a response.

"There's our New York star. We are so proud of you! We want to hear every single detail of your trip," Hiram says while taking her bag from her.

Leroy, the more serious of her dads, explains Finn's presence. "Honey, Burt called. He invited you out to dinner with Kurt, Finn and Carole and we thought it would be a nice surprise if Finn came with us to pick you up before we dropped you off at Breadsticks."

Finn looks over at her eagerly, "Surprised?" he asks.

"Very," she answers honestly.

Finn is bouncing up and down with excitement that she can't even begin to match. "My mom and Burt got engaged. They want to go out to dinner to celebrate."

Rachel knows that she won't be successful, but she makes a half-hearted attempt to get out of dinner. "I'm really tired," she says, addressing not Finn, but her dads, "Maybe its better if I don't go tonight."

"Its just dinner, Rachel. At Breadsticks!" Finn says. "Breadsticks," he emphasizes again.

Her dads are looking at her strangely because they can tell that something is bothering her. There really is no valid excuse for her to miss dinner tonight except that she doesn't want to, and none of the three men standing in front of her has any idea why she wouldn't want to go. It's a lost cause, she realizes, unless she is going to tell all of them about Jesse right here, right now.

"Okay," she says, trying to sound agreeable, "Breadsticks."

She is quiet on the car ride to Breadsticks even though her dads pepper her with all sorts of questions about NYU and New York. Her answers are concise and to the point, lacking all the detail that they are craving and under any other circumstance she would have been happy to give them. But she's sitting next to Finn on the backseat, his large frame making his presence seem overwhelmingly imposing, and she feels anything but talkative. Finn doesn't seem to notice that anything is off with her, but her dads keep shooting her worried glances in the rear-view mirror.

They pull up to Breadsticks and she almost begs her dads not to leave her alone with Finn and his family. But they are just there to drop them off, having not been invited to the Hudson-Hummel celebration.

"Burt said that Kurt would give you a ride home, Rachel," Leroy says as she and Finn open their doors. "We'll be waiting to hear more about your trip." There is nothing in his tone to suggest it, but Rachel knows her dad well enough that what he means is that he wants to know what has prompted her strange behavior this evening. She looks him in the eye through the mirror and nods.

She and Finn enter the restaurant, and out of the sight of her dads, he attempts to put his arm around her neck, kiss her on the lips. She shrugs him off and turns her head, thankful when she sees Burt waving them over to the table. Along with Kurt and Carole, Mercedes is there too.

"Thanks for joining us tonight, Rachel!" Burt says enthusiastically. Rachel smiles but doesn't say anything. In her head she's thinking that she didn't really have a choice. "Congratulations!" Rachel says, with as much zeal as she can muster, when Carole holds out her hand to show her the ring.

They ask a lot of the same questions about NYU that her dads did and she gives them pretty much the same, almost monosyllabic, answers. Everyone keeps telling her how amazing an opportunity that the program was and that she should be proud that NYU is interested in her. She nods along, agrees with them, but the excitement level of the conversation only picks up when she mentions to Kurt that she met Kristen Chenoweth and he starts screaming while Mercedes rolls her eyes.

After that story, she tries to shift the conversation around to Burt and Carole and their wedding. When talking about NYU, she tends to say "We" a lot and when a confused Finn asked who "We" meant, she had answered that she had gone to see the play with her tour guide, Kylie. Better to stay clear of that conversation right now, she thinks.

When dessert gets to the table, Carole uses her fork to tap her water glass. "I would like to make a toast to the Hummel-Hudsons," she says, "Two weeks from today we are getting married."

"Two weeks?" Mercedes asks, "Wow, that's so soon. My aunt took almost a year to plan her wedding."

"Well, when Burt was sick, we decided that we don't want to wait much longer. We love each other and we want to be together. Now. Plus, we're getting married in the backyard, my friend from work is making the cake and I ordered my dress and your dresses online already. So there's not much else to do."

"Wait," Mercedes asks, and Rachel is glad that she is the one asking the question, because her heart just stopped, "You bought dresses for us?"

Carole is smiling, looks at Burt happily and then nods at Mercedes. "Burt and I want this to be a family affair with the boys. They are going to be our best men, and we asked them to choose bridesmaids to escort them down the aisle. Surprise, surprise, they chose you two. I hope you like the dresses, I bought them based on your sizes from when I helped you make the Bon Jovi costumes."

Mercedes looks over at Rachel and squeals. "We're going to be bridesmaids!" Kurt rubs his ear, because Mercedes has just shrieked into it and Finn takes advantage of her surprise to plant a kiss on Rachel's lips.

My show face is not this strong, Rachel thinks to herself, and she knows she is faltering when she feels tears prick at the sides of her eyes. She's already cried so much this weekend, she thinks. Everyone else in the group thinks they are happy tears, and Finn even tells her not to cry, it's not that big of a deal. She wipes at her eyes, regroups and smiles at all of them. Carole and Burt look so happy, how could she possibly ruin this moment for them?

She's never felt more trapped in her life.

After Burt takes care of the check, she, Finn and Mercedes pile into Kurt's car, with Finn sitting beside her again on the backseat. Thankfully, because her house is much closer to Breadsticks than to the Hummel's, she gets dropped off first and manages to avoid Finn' attempts to make out with her, even while Kurt and Mercedes are in the car.

Finn walks her to the door, and mentions that he wants to talk to her tomorrow about something important. She nods and because she is more interested in the night being over than being morally correct, she kisses him chastely on the lips and says goodnight, walking into the house. Jesse can kill her for that one kiss later, she thinks. She just needs to get out of Finn's company.

Her dads are waiting for her in the living room when she gets in, finishing a bottle of wine from their own dinner. They turn off the television as soon as she walks into the room. After the intensity of the past few hours, she finally feels that she can relax a little bit, let her true emotions show, and hot tears of fury start to spill out.

If her dads were worried before, they are incredibly anxious now. She collapses onto the chaise lounge, faces them as they sit on the couch.

"Honey, what's wrong?" Hiram asks, voice full of concern.

She doesn't know where to begin, so she starts by lashing out at them.

"Why didn't you warn me that Finn wanted to go to dinner with his family tonight? You could have called, texted me, something!"

Both her dads are perplexed and they exchange glances. "We didn't think you would mind, Rachel. You like spending time with their family and Finn told us that Carole was going to ask you to be a bridesmaid. We thought you would find that fun." Leroy, always the voice of reason, speaks calmly.

"Honey, start at the end." It's a technique that Hiram picked up in medical school to take patient histories. Start at the end, then tell me the beginning and the middle will figure itself out.

Rachel takes a deep breath, prepares to have the conversation that she originally intended to have with them before the wedding was thrust upon her.

"I don't want to be with Finn anymore," she says with a sniffle, "I was planning on breaking up with him and now I can't."

There is complete silence in the room as they each digest what she just said.

Leroy looks like he wants to say something but Hiram regains his words first. "And what's the beginning?" he asks carefully.

It's a long time before she speaks. How does she boil all of this down into one sentence? She threads her hands together.

"Jesse goes to NYU."

_**Please review!**_


	17. Chapter 17

Rachel always loved the clarity that came from talking to her dads. She was absolutely sure that they knew her better than she knew herself, and they had never once led her astray with their advice. Usually, that meant that they told her what she had known to be the right answer all along. (They had raised her after all). But their support of her choices, especially when they weren't easy choices to make, had always bolstered her ability to stand by her decisions, even in the face of any mocking or bullying that had followed.

Tonight had been no different.

Maybe it had something to do with the fact that they were both guys, but her dads gave really good boy advice. They had told her to leave Finn alone the first (and second time) he had kissed her when he was still dating Quinn, they had helped her see Noah's attraction to Quinn when their week of making out came to a close, and they had told Rachel to be strong when Finn had told her that he didn't want to be her boyfriend right before she had met Jesse.

After Jesse had egged her and she had decided to be with Finn, she had stopped seeking their advice as much. She was convinced that she and Finn would have the perfect relationship and she had pushed any doubts that arose to the back of her mind. She had never once approached her dads about how Finn never supported her in glee club, how he agreed with others when they taunted her, and how, generally, he just didn't measure up to what she wanted no matter how many chances she gave him.

She can tell that they are glad that she sought them out again. They were beginning to worry about her and Finn.

After they had gotten over their initial shock at finding out that Jesse went to NYU, it hadn't taken long for her to explain that Jesse had been chosen as her tour guide, that they had gotten the chance to talk, that he had apologized and explained his actions and, finally, that he had told her that he still loved her.

She pauses, then tells them that she told him that she loved him too.

She chooses her words carefully when she explains to them, in a less direct way, that she cheated on Finn. As much as she shares with her dads, she cannot bring herself to tell them that she had spent the entire weekend in Jesse St. James' room; in his bed.

They ask anyway, because they know her too well and they can tell that this time is different. They can sense that her relationship with Jesse is more serious than she's letting on.

"Did you have sex with him, Rachel?" Leroy asks softly and Hiram looks up, surprised that one of them actually voiced the question.

She blushes, and she feels like they can read her mind when she answers, "No, dad." Technically, its true, but it's also not the whole truth. Thankfully, they leave it there.

They explain to her that they do think that being in a relationship with Jesse at this point, especially a long distance one, is moving a little too quickly. They think that she should take some time to figure out what she wants and not just move from one boyfriend to another.

She thinks they have a point, she really does, but she doesn't know how that would work in practice. Now that she has Jesse back in her life, she can't imagine not speaking to him everyday, can't imagine not seeing him as regularly as she can, can't imagine not kissing him when she does.

Hiram breaks her out of her thoughts. "The truth of the matter, Rachel, is that you have always had much higher standards for the boys in your life than we could ever impose. That's why we worried with Finn. It seems as if you were letting your standards fall."

She nods, "I know." It's the same truth that she's been confronting all weekend. She wonders why they haven't mentioned it before.

Leroy speaks up, sounding like the lawyer he is. "And this doesn't mean that we've completely forgiven Jesse for what he did to you, either. He is on probation. Some of the liberties you two are used to are not going to be extended when he visits until he proves himself."

She agrees, thinking that even if that's not what she wants, it's a fair deal. She decides to broach the topic of visits to New York at a later date and says a silent thanks for the fact that she and Jesse had this last weekend together. There might not be more of them any time soon.

She's eager to move her dads' attention towards the glaring problem that she still has to deal with.

"What do I do about Finn and this wedding?" she asks them.

They both look at her. "You know what you have to do, honey," Leroy says with empathy, "It's just not going to be easy."

"But what about Carole's wedding? I can't just ruin the happiest day of her life." Rachel thinks that she has a really good point with this argument, even if she's just avoiding the inevitable.

Her dads don't seem to think so. "Breaking up with Finn isn't going to be any easier after the wedding, Rachel," Hiram insists, "And do you really want Carole to look back at her wedding pictures and think that you were lying to them the whole time?"

Leroy jumps in, "At least this way she can find another bridesmaid, and you won't be lying to them for two more weeks."

Rachel sighs. She has no more arguments; she knows this is how it has to be. "Okay," she says slowly, "I will talk to Finn tomorrow and I'll apologize to Carole." She pauses, swallows. "Can I ask you guys a favor?"

"Of course, honey," Hiram says.

"Can you not tell anyone about Jesse… about me and Jesse? The glee club is not going to be happy that we're together again and I don't want them to kick me out because they think he's a traitor."

She watches as her dads exchange a glance and worries for a minute that they won't agree to do this for her.

"Who you are dating is your business, Rachel, and we won't say anything to anyone," Hiram says. "However," Leroy interjects, "At the same time, we will not tell any lies for you. Keep that in mind."

Rachel figures this is the best she's going to get. Her dads are usually so busy anyway that they hardly have any interaction with anyone from her school.

A heavy weight lifted off her shoulders, at least for the night, Rachel thanks her dads for hearing her out, gives them each a hug and, after some light, unnecessary prodding from Hiram, tells them all about NYU and New York, the right way, over some soy ice-cream.

She dials his number even as she's climbing the stairs to her room, eager to hear his voice.

"Hey," he answers sleepily, and she loves that she now knows how he sounds when he just wakes up.

"Did I wake you?" She's confused because it's just after nine, and she knows he's a night owl.

"Thanks to you, I didn't get that much sleep this weekend," he chuckles, "I was taking a nap." He inhales, "My sheets still smell like you."

She blushes, glances around her quickly to make sure that her dads can't hear this conversation. "I'm going to miss sleeping next to you," she says softly.

"I was thinking of coming to visit you two weeks from now. We have that Monday off because of a faculty retreat, so I could stay the whole weekend."

She smiles, "I can't wait. I should warn you, though, that you're on probation. My dads also think that we should wait before restarting our relationship."

"I wouldn't have expected anything less from Hiram and Leroy," Jesse says cheerfully, sounding way more awake than a few minutes ago. "Although I'm not sure how not to be your boyfriend." He hesitates, chuckles "I don't even know if that made sense."

"It did to me. I feel the same way." She bites her lip, suddenly nervous.

She sighs, decides to tackle the Finn conversation head on. "I had dinner with Finn and his family tonight. His mom is getting married to Kurt's dad in two weeks. They want me to be a bridesmaid and they already bought me a dress."

His silence stretches on for what feels like an eternity.

"Jesse… please say something. I'm still going to break up with him. I just panicked at dinner because I felt trapped in front of his mom. I just needed to talk to my dads first. This isn't easy for me." She's speaking quickly, terrified that he's mad at her.

"Okay." He sighs, and she knows intuitively that he's running his hands through his hair, "I trust you Rachel. I do. I just … I hate every minute that he thinks that you're his. Even when we were together the first time, he still thought… " She cuts him off.

"I'm not his, Jesse. I never was," She tries to make her voice sound as reassuring as possible. "I'll break up with him tomorrow. And since I obviously won't be going to this wedding, we will be able to spend all weekend together when you get here in two weeks."

"Well that depends on the terms of my probation," he deadpans, trying to lighten the mood, "Something tells me that your dads aren't going to want us spending any time alone together."

"Probably not," she concedes, thinking back to her earlier conversation with them, "But maybe you can impress them with your good behavior?" she says half seriously.

"I can try, but I think your dads know me better than that," he laughs, "they caught us in some pretty compromising positions."

She's quiet as she remembers, and then her thoughts lead into the events of the past weekend. Before she knows it, she's been silent for two whole minutes.

"Hello, gorgeous" he jokes in his Best Barbra, "Did I distract you?" he asks knowingly.

"I miss you," she says, thinking of all the ways she does miss him.

"I miss you too," he says sighing, all jokes gone from his voice.

The next morning, she hasn't even been at school ten minutes when Finn comes to find her at her locker. "Let's meet in the auditorium after school," he says.

She nods. "I need to talk to you too," she states dryly, but he's already turning around to make his way down the hall.

The school day is uneventful and because she is dreading her conversation with Finn after school, it passes more quickly than any school day before it ever has. After homeroom dismisses at three, she walks towards the auditorium, pushing the side door open.

He's on the stage and he's recreated their first time together. He's got the picnic blanket and basket, even the airplane cups that he had thought were so funny at the time.

It occurs to her that even the first time anything had ever happened between them she had, quite literally, set the stage for it. She had created the circumstances that had lead to their first kiss, to the start of their relationship, exactly how she had thought she wanted it. She remembers how she had actually prompted him to kiss her. She can't help but compare it with her first kiss with Jesse, how she had felt a physical, gravitational pull towards him and she hadn't realized that she had kissed him until she had.

She wonders how she hadn't noticed these differences before, but they're so evident to her now.

"I thought you would like this," Finn says simply. He reaches out a hand to pull her onto the stage. She takes it.

"I love you, Rachel, and I'm hoping…" He looks down to the ground, and he's nervous, bouncing around on the balls of his feet. "I'm hoping that we can take our relationship to the next level," he finishes without looking at her.

She thinks her heart actually breaks a little for what she's about to do to him. She gathers herself for a minute before she continues.

He finally notices the silence and looks up at her. "Are you okay? You don't look so good. Do you want something to drink?" He reaches for one of the cups.

She shakes her head. "Finn, I think we should just be friends," she says slowly, looking up at him.

He's gaping at her and she thinks that the best thing to do is to keep talking. "I think that we are fundamentally two different people and rather than trying to make this work and waste our highly important teenage years together, we should just admit it and just concentrate on being friends and co-captains of glee club rather than paramours. I think it will save us a lot of heartache in the future when I leave to become a star and you pursue your athletic scholarships."

She pauses there, looks around, "I'll talk to your mom, apologize about not being a bridesmaid. Maybe she can get Santana to do it instead," she says, trying to think of the person in glee club that would most likely be able to wear the same dress size as she would who wasn't Quinn because Carole hated Quinn.

"Is that what this is about? Santana?" Finn asks incredulously, "Because Rachel it was one time, we weren't even together and that was when you told me that you had slept with Jesse, and before you told me that you lied, and it didn't mean anything and it only lasted for like three minutes, I swear. I didn't even enjoy it because I don't want to be with anyone else but you."

Rachel swallows, "You slept with Santana?" she asks softly.

He doesn't answer her but there is no need. His silence and the dazed look on his face answer the question for her.

_**This chapter was so hard to write! Thanks SO MUCH for all of your great reviews, your comments and your support! Sometimes you guys' words get me through the day. Keep 'em coming. **_

_**By the way, don't think you've seen the last of Kylie, Allie, Meg or Shelby. They're coming up ;-)**_


	18. Chapter 18

_**Sorry for the long delay in updating. Finals are upon us! Hopefully I can get the next chapter out soon. Shelby, Allie, Meg and Kylie will show up in the next chapter! Lots of feelings in this one. **_

I.

On Wednesday afternoon, Rachel arrives home after school to find a Priority-mailed, thin, light package from Jesse with the words 'Don't open in front of your dads' in grammatically incorrect French written on it.

Her dads aren't home anyway but, with a curious smile, she takes the package with her to open it in the privacy of her room. She and Jesse have a Skype date scheduled in ten minutes, and she wants to brush her teeth and change out of her school clothes before he sees her.

Even though there have been constant emails and text messages between them, due to both their busy schedules, they have to plan time to have an actual conversation. Thanks to their webcams, today will be their first time actually seeing each other since she left New York on Sunday, and, to tell you the truth, she's not looking forward to it.

Because Jesse can always read her like an open book and she's sure that it is going to be magnified when he can actually see her face. It's been two days since Finn let slip that he had slept with Santana. She had turned around and walked out of the auditorium after she could see the answer to her question plain as day on his face. She still doesn't know how she feels about it. She just knows that it affects her; makes her angry; and given that she did so much worse by actually cheating on Finn, she doesn't know why she's so mad. But she is, and she doesn't know how to explain that to Jesse.

She had sent Jesse a text message on Monday night telling him that she had broken up with Finn and he had responded with a smiley face and an 'I love you.' She had called Carole that night too, explaining that she and Finn were no longer a couple and apologizing for not being a bridesmaid. However, as much as the vindictive part of her had wanted to, she could not go through with her initial plan to make the recommendation that Santana fill in for her.

She's managed to avoid Finn, even when he's tried to corner her, by spending most of her free time in the back corner of the library where she and Jesse used to hang out. She had eaten lunch with Kurt, Mercedes and Tina yesterday, but she had bowed out today because her explanation that she and Finn just made better friends sounded weaker and weaker each time she said it. She can tell that they won't give up trying to find out what happened, and she has a feeling that Kurt is acting on orders from Finn.

She's dreading glee club on Thursday and actually having to face Santana. Her logical side knows that nothing has really changed. Santana and Finn slept together almost a year ago, and the only thing that is different is that she knows about it now.

She realizes this is where the root of her anger lies. At least with Meg she had known what she was getting into. Jesse had inoculated her from most of the pain by preemptively telling her about his history with the blonde, and she had had time to build a defense before facing her.

She feels powerless when it comes to Santana. She had put up with the girl's insults all year and had even made some attempts to be friendly with her. She had kept her head high when Finn didn't defend her against Santana's attacks on her clothes, her leadership of the glee club, or anything else she managed to think up on that particular day. And, this whole time, Santana had held the superior knowledge that she had gotten to Rachel's boyfriend first, and, even worse, she had known that Rachel didn't know. In every argument that she and the Latina had had, Santana had held the trump card, even if Rachel hadn't been aware of it. She can just imagine how Santana must have laughed at her behind her back.

She wonders how many people in the school, how many people in glee club, actually know. She had always been the laughing stock of the school, true, but at least with those attacks, she had always had the opportunity to defend herself, to fight back or to choose to ignore them if she wanted. Finn had given her no choice in this particular humiliation.

While she sorts through these feelings, she has decided to be demure about the break up. Even though Finn had handed her a legitimate reason to break up on a silver platter, she refuses to use it, even to appease Kurt and Mercedes. It doesn't seem that Finn has told them about his indiscretion, either. No matter how much it hurts, she wants to be the bigger person.

But Finn doesn't know how to back off. In addition to leaving her 'I'm sorry' notes in her locker every period, he sent Mr. Shue to talk to her and ask her to reconsider breaking up with him. Of course, Mr. Shue had come at it with the 'I'm just concerned about my co-captains working together' angle, but when he had mentioned Santana and suggested couples counseling with he and Ms. Pillsbury, she had lost it. She had said some choice words about how Mr. Shue's marriage to his high school sweetheart had ended in a divorce and some psychotic baby drama and, when he still refused to back down, how he still pined after Ms. Pillsbury even though she was dating the dentist. He had persisted even as she had stormed out of the library.

She wants to tell Jesse all of this but she knows that he won't be able to be objective about Finn. She can't bring herself to talk to her dads about it, because the thought of discussing Finn having sex with someone else and, inevitably, her possibly having sex doesn't seem like a conversation she wants to have with them right now.

She knows that the turmoil she is feeling has a lot to do with sex. Why does everyone around her treat it so casually when it seems like the biggest thing in the world to her? Perhaps she and Jesse had moved really quickly last weekend, but it was only because she trusted and loved him as much as she did. Wasn't it proof of how she felt about Jesse that they had done more in one weekend than she and Finn had done in over six months of dating? She can't imagine being with anyone but Jesse, can't imagine letting anyone else see her naked, touch her like that or be with her in that way.

Yet, though she's confident about wanting to be with Jesse and only Jesse, she's reminded that neither he nor Finn felt that way about her. They had both had sex with other girls after getting involved, in some way, with her. Even Finn, who she had thought was Mr. Innocent, had done it and then lied to her about it for months.

She remembers what she once said to Jesse about losing your virginity being a big deal for girls. She wonders if guys just don't care at all.

II.

She's gone through the motions of brushing her teeth and changing her clothes when she hears Skype ringing from her computer. She runs over to accept his call.

They talk about their days and about what's coming up in the week. They mention things they want to do when he is in town next weekend and she promises to look into whether the music lounges in Akron require you to be 21 and over to attend performances.

"It's good to see you," he says, while making a goofy face at the camera, "I'd forgotten what you looked like."

She laughs quietly then tucks a strand of her hair behind her ears.

"Are you okay, Rach? You don't seem yourself." He pauses, waits for her to answer. "Rachel, look at me," he says harshly when she doesn't answer.

She raises her eyes to meet the camera, gives him a small smile. He won't let her go that easily.

"Rachel, are you having second thoughts about us? If you are, just tell me, so we can talk or sing about it." It's his last attempt at humor. He feels powerless because there isn't that much he can do to get through to her over Skype.

"I don't know how to talk to you about this," she whispers. "I don't want you to be mad."

He assumes the worst. "Did something happen with Finn?" His tone is soft, but she knows him better than that. He's absolutely livid because he thinks that she cheated.

"No. Not like that." She sighs loudly and draws her knees up to her chest on her chair. She knows she has to tell him; she's wanted to tell him this whole time.

"Finn lied to me. He slept with Santana before we started dating. Our entire relationship he told me that he was a virgin and when I broke up with him he let it slip."

There's silence on his end, and, when she can't bear it anymore, she looks into the camera.

He runs a hand through his hair. He really doesn't know how to respond to that. She's obviously upset about it, and he's not exactly sure why she is.

"Does it matter now that it's over between you two?" And, because he can't resist, "Hudson's not worth the time or the energy."

She tries not to cry. She doesn't know why it matters. She can't explain why it bothers her as much as it does.

"I don't know," she whines. "He looked me in the face for months and he lied. I saw Santana everyday and the whole time she knew that I didn't know. She made fun of me everyday and he never saw fit to tell me." She's gaining volume as she speaks. "We were supposed to lose our virginities to each other and obviously that didn't matter to him."

She realizes what she's said a minute too late. "Jesse… I didn't mean that," she says quickly, attempting to undo the damage, "I'm just mad."

"I can't compete with the fairytale that you made up for the two of you, Rachel," he sneers. "Maybe this will help you realize that Finn isn't perfect, no matter how much you make him out to be."

"I know that," she says softly. "I'm sorry. Last weekend was already perfect and I want to be with you." She sighs. "I want more of that. I can't wait until you're here next weekend."

She pauses, decides to share with him something that she was planning on keeping to herself so that she can make it up to him. "I started on the pill today. We'll be covered in a month."

"Rachel, this isn't about sex," he almost yells, but she doesn't let him continue.

"Isn't it though?" She interrupts him, her anger surfacing, finding a target in him. "Isn't that what you want? You slept with Meg; Finn slept with Santana. Why do guys always choose someone else over me?"

She's looking him in the eye as much as the camera will let her, but she's scared of his answer. She doesn't want to think that everything this past weekend, their intimacy, didn't mean as much to him as it did to her.

"I choose you," he says with certainty. He sighs, looks to the side, away from the camera.

"Can I be honest with you?" he asks, knowing she needs more. She nods.

"Sex is easy, Rachel, almost too easy. This … us… is the hard part, making us work, especially with the distance, the other obstacles. That's going to be with us long after we have sex, whenever that is."

He pauses, looks back at her through the lens. "I've never tried to make it work with someone before. All the other stuff … I can't take back anything … I can only promise you that from now on, it'll only be you."

He swallows. "That has to be enough for you, Rachel. I can't give you anything else."

"It's enough," she says, biting her lip. "More than enough."

"When did you get so smart?" she teases after a while, trying to lighten the mood. He laughs softly.

Both of them are silent as they try to figure out how to move forward. She remembers the package that is currently sitting on her bed.

She walks over to the bed to get it. "What did you send me?" She asks with as much positivity in her voice as she can. "And why can't I open it in front of my dads?" she asks suspiciously.

He groans when she returns to the desk and the webcam with the package. "Don't open it. I meant it as a joke, but I don't want you to take it the wrong way, especially now."

"You know me better than that, don't you?" she says while tearing open the package, "Now I have to open it."

She does. It's a T-shirt, in the almost-peach, almost-pink color that she loves. On the front, in big block letters is written: VEGANS TASTE BETTER.

She feels heat radiate through her body and something deep within her clench as she remembers back to a couple of nights ago.

"There's a student organization on campus that sells them. I thought you might like it, but I didn't mean to be insensitive … You know that our relationship is about more than just sex." He's running his hands through his hair again, the curls completely tousled. She wants to reach through the computer and run her own hands through it.

She's biting her lip, blushing furiously and unable to speak. He's trying to read her reaction.

"It's true," he says quietly, ducking his head, trying to hide his smirk because he doesn't want to anger her any further.

"I love it," she finally says. His head whips up and he can't help the smile on his face. She knows its odd, but she loves that he thought about her like this, that he felt comfortable enough to send it to her. She loves that he just said that it was true. She loves that he is the only one that knows… that about her.

Thankfully, they end their conversation on a happy note, but even though she has finally told Jesse about Finn and Santana, she's not yet at peace with everything that has happened.

She realizes that she needs a different dynamic to help her figure it all out. This isn't the type of conversation you have with your boyfriend or your dads, and she doesn't have any girlfriends that she can unload on.

She's grabbing her keys before her mind is fully made up that she's going to go see her mother.


	19. Chapter 19

_**Sorry for the long time between updates! I'm still in the midst of finals. To make it up to you, this is an extra long chapter. I loved the Rachel/ Kurt (more likely Lea/ Chris) friendship from a couple of episodes back so I decided to write some of it into this story. I hate hate how they are making Rachel weak and needy in response to Finn breaking up with her. Where's the girl that sang Gives you Hell in front of the entire glee club? I want to bring some of that girl back!**_

I.

She's about to get into her car to go see Shelby when Kurt pulls into her driveway. She makes a point of opening her door to show him that she's about to leave, but he pulls in directly behind her Prius, making her efforts fruitless. She slams the door closed in annoyance, turns to face him with a pissed off expression.

Finn sent him. She's sure of it and she really does not want to have this conversation right now. He exits his SUV and walks over to her, drawing a Dalton jacket tighter around him. He's been doing some more espionage for McKinley at Dalton, but Rachel now gets the impression that there is more to it than that. The jacket makes him look even more childlike than his cherubic face already does.

"Calm down, diva," he placates, "I don't bite."

"I don't want to talk about Finn," she states angrily, folding her arms across her chest. "You can tell him that you tried and failed, but as I told him, I think that we work better as friends. That's all you're going to get." She sighs. "I know he sent you."

Kurt nods, conceding the fact. "He's willing to do anything, Rachel. It's quite pathetic really. He swears that he will never eat pepperoni or sausage ever again," he finishes seriously.

"You just made that up," she says knowingly, "Finn doesn't think that pizza toppings should qualify as meat."

Kurt looks up at her and smiles, shrugs his shoulders. "He didn't give me much to work with."

He looks longingly at the house. "Can we go inside? These polyester jackets aren't good at delivering enough warmth to withstand Ohio winters and my facial moisturizer is starting to freeze."

She raises an eyebrow at the jacket. She swears that he blushes.

She doesn't have a good reason to say no, and it's obvious that he's not letting her go anywhere, so she invites him into the house. They settle in the kitchen and she puts on the kettle for hot chocolate, the hostess in her taking over.

She grabs the cocoa, cups, spoons and her vegan marshmallows and lays them out on the island. After she's done, she leans back against the sink to look at him. He's sitting at one of the stools at the island, directly across from her.

It's quiet for what feels like an eternity. She's about to ask him what he's still doing at her house when two things happen almost simultaneously: the shrill whistle of the kettle pierces the kitchen and Kurt confesses the reason he's still sitting in her kitchen.

"I think I'm in love."

Her mouth actually drops open a little bit and she gives herself time to react by fixing them two steaming cups of chocolate. Kurt thanks her, takes a sip and then starts talking.

"With Blaine – he was the main singer for the Warblers at Sectionals. We've been hanging out while I do the after school honors program at Dalton and he kissed me yesterday." He smiles softly. "It was my first real kiss with a guy … and it was fantastic." Rachel can't help but smile at how he stresses the last word, but she's still confused.

"Why are you telling _me_ this? We're not exactly friends." She looks down and stirs her chocolate as she says this, both curious and somewhat fearful of his answer at the same time.

"You wouldn't normally be my first choice, true," Kurt states, "But Mercedes and I got into a fight because I was spending too much time with Blaine, neither Finn or my dad is ready to talk about guy stuff with me, and, honestly…" He pauses, and she raises both eyebrows at him.

"That conversation we had along time ago about both of us liking Finn? Well, I've only ever really talked about boys with you, Rachel."

She laughs at the near absurdity of his statement and, ultimately, he joins her. "Neither of us is really a prime target for boys in this town," he continues, "We're much too high maintenance."

"That's how you're planning on winning me back for Finn?" she asks skeptically. He shrugs.

"I may have come here under false pretenses," he states smoothly. "He told me what he did. He shouldn't have lied to you like that. Sometimes he can be kind of clueless."

She feels emotion rise in her throat because he sounds like he truly understands what she's been trying to come to terms with over the last couple of days. She can only nod.

"I think maybe you guys should take a break from each other," he pauses, "… Now back to Blaine."

She ignores the abrupt change in subject. "Thanks, Kurt." He nods at her in reply.

Kurt proceeds to tell her in intimate detail about the hour he and Blaine had spent making out in one of the Dalton lounges. It's easy to have this conversation with Kurt. She finds herself giggling, smiling and adding commentary at exactly the points she can tell he wants it.

After giving her a play-by-play of the kisses, he expresses surprise that three other guys walked in on him and Blaine during that hour and none of them had said anything negative in response to catching the two boys in a compromising position. In return, Rachel tells him horror stories that her dads had told her about similar experiences in their youth that hadn't ended so well. Kurt expresses that that is the reason he prefers Dalton to McKinley and wants to transfer there.

"New Directions would still expect me to spy for them, though," he says, wringing his hands. "I don't think they will take kindly to me having the lead singer of the Warblers as my boyfriend."

They both know its true. "Probably not," she says unnecessarily.

"Did it feel like this with Jesse?" Kurt asks, seemingly out of nowhere.

"Jesse?" she asks, cautious as to where this is going. Could he possibly know?

He tries to explain where his question came from. "It's like knowing that they would disapprove makes it so much more worth it. They won't understand what it means for me to have him in my life. Right now he feels like everything that I needed, that I didn't have when I was the person I was before." She can tell he's searching for the right words, but she thinks he's described the feeling pretty well.

Rachel looks at him, trying to decipher if there are ulterior motives at work here. She finds none. "That's exactly it," she replies honestly.

"Then I don't get it," he tells her, "How does it feel now that he's not in your life anymore? I can't imagine feeling like this and then having it all go away and go back to before."

She drains the hot chocolate in her cup and turns to place her cup in the sink, taking his empty cup too. This whole conversation feels eerie to her. It's hitting a little too close to home.

"It's the worst feeling in the world," she says, still facing the sink.

"It took you a lot longer to get over Jesse than it seems like its taking you to get over Finn," Kurt states carefully, "You went through that whole week of wearing even worse clothes than usual – God, do you remember those yellow pants? – and being angry and vicious right around Regionals."

She doesn't know how to respond to that. She wants to come out and tell him, to finally confide in someone who isn't her dads. She's mindful, however, that Kurt is literally reporting back to Finn and she doesn't want to take that chance.

She turns back to face him and he's watching her for a reaction. She swallows, but doesn't say anything.

"Maybe you'll find your Prince Charming when you go to NYU," Kurt reasons.

Rachel acknowledges the truth of his statement in her head even if she doesn't acknowledge it to him. She's already found him, her "prince," though she's not sure that she would describe him as Prince Charming; maybe the Beast who finds redemption in the end.

"Didn't you come here on Finn's behalf?" She asks the question in an accusatory manner but she feels a lot more comfortable with Kurt now, the awkwardness of earlier is gone.

"Did you ever get this feeling with Finn?" he asks quietly, looking up at her. She looks him in the eye, shakes her head no. The answer to this question is too obvious to lie.

"Me neither," he says. "Let's make a deal. You don't tell anyone about Blaine and I won't bring up Finn when we talk, and I will tell Finn that I've spoken to you about him and you told me nothing."

"Deal," she says, smiling, wondering how long it will be before she can tell Kurt some secrets of her own.

II.

By the time Kurt leaves, it's too late to go see Shelby because Rachel wants to get dinner ready before her dads get home. But Kurt's visit makes her need to talk to someone else, another woman preferably, that much stronger.

She still has Shelby's number from that brief period last year when they were pursuing a mother daughter relationship. The brief period before Shelby freaked out and bailed on her. Just like with Jesse, she never could bear to delete the number. Maybe that's a good sign, Rachel thinks.

It takes her a while to get up the courage to dial, and when she does, Shelby picks up just as she is about to end the call and give up again.

"Rachel! Is everything okay?" Shelby sounds worried and Rachel is reminded that this is the woman that gave birth to her, that carried her in her belly for nine months. Even though sometimes she calls Shelby her mother, those biological facts and the emotions that usually accompany them are easy to forget.

"Yes," she gets out, but nothing else comes.

"Do you want to talk?" Shelby asks, "The baby is asleep and I can talk if you want."

Rachel nods her head into the phone, then realizes that Shelby won't be able to hear it. She takes a deep breath.

"Shelby, I know that you don't really want to be my friend, but I could use someone to talk to … about recent developments in my life. I don't have any girlfriends and I would really like to talk to another woman that isn't my guidance counselor. I don't have anyone else to turn to."

Rachel doesn't say what else she wants to say - something along the lines that Shelby at least owes her this much.

"You spoke to Jesse." Shelby states it as an assertion, not a question. Rachel does not confirm or deny it.

"Are you free to grab dinner tomorrow evening?" Shelby asks after about a minute. "I can meet you in Lima."

"Why don't we meet near Carmel instead?" Rachel offers. She doesn't want to run the risk of running into anyone she knows while with Shelby, especially her dads.

"Okay," Shelby says. "There is a great Italian place right near the school. Why don't you meet me in the school parking lot at around 5:30 and we'll drive over to the restaurant together?"

"Sounds good," Rachel states, before silence sets in on the conversation.

Shelby breaks it. "Did you enjoy your visit to NYU?" She seems to hesitate, probably second-guessing her conclusion that Rachel has spoken to Jesse, then clarifies, "I read about it in the Ohio Times."

"I loved it!" Rachel exclaims, feeling genuine for the first time in this conversation. She tells Shelby about how she fell in love with her dream school all over again. Shelby, like Jesse and her dads, is appreciative of all the benefits of the arts program, the location, the wealth of opportunities for a performer. They end the conversation by speaking about concrete details such as application timelines and personal statements.

It's the most productive discussion that they've ever had with each other, and it's because neither of them is trying too hard to be something that they're not.

She has a smile on her face when she finally gets off the phone with Shelby and she's hopeful for their dinner tomorrow. She realizes that conversation will probably be a lot harder to have.

III.

The NYU Dean of Admissions calls Allie, one of his admissions officers, into his office early on Thursday morning. He's looking at a handwritten note that makes some serious accusations, and he is somewhat perplexed. The note doesn't have a signature or any other way of identifying the sender but something tells him not to discount what it says.

Allie knocks on his door and he waves her into his office, tells her to take a seat.

He starts slow. "That junior high school student from Ohio that was here last weekend, Rachel Berry, have you heard from her since she left?"

Allie looks surprised, a little nervous. "She completed the online survey about her visit on the Admissions website. She gave us rave reviews. She seems to have enjoyed her visit." Allie pauses, "But other than that, no."

Allie feels proud that she pulled off Rachel's visit so smoothly, but something is obviously wrong. "Why are you asking about her, Sir?"

He pushes the handwritten note to the other side of his desk, invites Allie to take a look. "This was under my door this morning. There's no name, I have no idea who sent it but it says that Rachel spent all three nights she was here in the McElhaney dorm, with a first year male student, Jesse St. James. There are also accusations that she participated in underage drinking and drug use at an off-campus party."

"Jesse was Rachel's tour guide," Allie explains, "But she was supposed to be staying with Kylie Bilson over in Jacksons when she was here." As she says it, Allie realizes how unreliable her assurance is; remembers the history that was so evident between Rachel and Jesse. She has no idea exactly where Rachel stayed this weekend.

"Yes, I checked into that," the Dean says. "Kylie Bilson has a disciplinary action pending before the Committee. The police in Hartford arrested her for being disorderly the first night that Rachel was here. There is no way either of them were in her dorm room that night."

Allie absorbs the information, realizes for the first time that she may have a problem, so she goes on the defensive. "With all due respect, Sir, we've never kept such close tabs on prospective students on visits before. They and their parents understand that this is college and the kids are responsible for themselves. Where Rachel spent the weekend normally wouldn't be any of our concern, as long as she's not underage and she got back to her parents safe and sound."

The Dean sighs. "Usually you would be right, and if it were just the accusations of drinking or drug use, then I would leave it alone. I'm willing to bet my Mercedes that the author of this note is underage and participated in many of these same activities." He stops for a second to look over at Allie.

"However, what worries me is that we promised Rachel's parents that she would have a female host on a women's only floor of one of the dorms. She's sixteen and it looks like she spent all weekend with a member of the opposite sex in his dorm. If that girl ends up heartbroken, or with some disease or pregnant, her parents could take legal action against the school."

Allie resigns herself to the fact that everything he said is true. "What do you want me to do?"

"I think that we have to follow our full disclosure policy. I need you to conduct an investigation into this today and tomorrow. Find out exactly where Rachel spent her nights and with whom. If it is as we suspect, then I need to place a call to her parents, alert them to this on Monday."

"Do you want me to call Rachel and talk to her?" Allie asks. The Dean seems to think about it for a while. "No. Let's keep this internal for now. The first thing you should do is call Kylie Bilson into the office and get to the bottom of this story. Report back to me by noon tomorrow."

IV.

Rachel steps out of the stall in the bathroom and looks at herself in the mirror. She feels scandalous, and it's not a feeling that she's used to.

She had tossed and turned all night, dreading going to glee club, knowing that not showing up would be just as bad as facing Finn and Santana. She had finally fallen into a fitful sleep and then woken up this morning with sudden inspiration.

She's wearing the t-shirt that Jesse sent her yesterday over a white long-sleeved t-shirt. She's changed out of her skirt into one of the few pairs of jeans that she owns. It's a low-slung pair and there is a sliver of bare stomach between where her shirts stop and the pants begin.

It's strange. She doesn't look like the version of Rachel that usually walks around McKinley, but, in some way, this feels likes her. She takes her hair out of the perfectly-coiffed ponytail that its in, runs her hands through it and lets her naturally loose curls flow down her back.

She can't help but think how Jesse would react to seeing her like this, and she decides that she doesn't have to wonder. She takes out her phone, snaps a picture of herself in the mirror. She sends it along with a text message.

_It's 3:00pm on a Thursday. Guess where I'm going? ;-)_

He responds almost immediately.

_Please tell me its NY. _

She giggles aloud, knowing that she inadvertently got him fired up.

_Sorry, glee club. I have to face Santana and I want to make a statement. _

He takes longer to reply this time, and she wonders if he's still hung up on the whole Finn thing. Maybe sending him the picture was a mistake.

_Statement made. I'm hard in class just thinking about you. Thanks for that. _

If anyone were to walk into the bathroom right now, they would think she was crazy because of the huge smile on her face.

_Sorry! _

She's really not sorry and he knows that. She likes that she has that effect on him.

_You don't mean that ;-) Eight days. Love you. _

She walks into the choir room right in time for practice to start. She would have usually arrived earlier but today she had to change. Everyone witnesses her entrance and as they look up, their eyes shift to read what's on her shirt.

She's pretty sure that all of the girls' jaws drop and many of the guys are leering at her. Finn and Brittany look confused. Kurt mouths "What the hell?" to her.

Mr. Schue is the first to speak. "I don't think that shirt is appropriate for school Rachel."

"Mr. Shue, I'm simply exercising my First Amendment rights to advocate for veganism. The school disciplinary code explicitly states that no article of clothing can be banned unless it is offensive to a religion, race or sexual orientation. This shirt does none of those things and simply states one of the many reasons that a vegan diet is preferable."

"Can someone explain to me what's going on?" Finn yells. Brittany is nodding too. He looks at Rachel's shirt, reads it again, then addresses her. "What does your shirt mean?"

Surprisingly, it's Santana that answers him. "No wonder _you_ don't understand, Finn. You're not one for foreplay." He looks confused and then it hits him; exactly what her shirt means.

Santana continues, "Your ex-girlfriend is making a point about what you're missing out on. Even though I take slight offense to it…" Here Santana pauses, looks around the room and then at Rachel, "Because let's face it … _so_ not true … not that he" she says, pointing her thumb at Finn, "would know. But props to you, Berry, I didn't know you had it in you."

_**Reviews guilt me into writing more!**_


	20. Chapter 20

_**Sorry for the long delay! Finals are over so updates should become more frequent. I'm also going to spend some time working on the sequel to Head Over Feet and another brand new story. **_

_**This chapter is hopefully not boring, but the angst and drama will start up again soon!**_

I.

Puck crudely announces to the whole glee club that he is willing to perform a taste test to prove the hypothesis on Rachel's shirt. She whips around to face him with a look that could boil water, and he raises his arms in defeat. In his defense, he mentions, he's already had a good chunk of the school to compare her to, and can put the debate to rest once and for all. Santana slaps him in the back of his head and starts yelling at him in Spanish.

Finn, somewhat impressively, is arguing with Rachel, Santana, and Mr. Schue while at the same time making threatening movements towards Puck. Kurt, Mercedes and Tina are providing quiet, play-by-play commentary to the chaos that is going on around them, and Rachel finds herself laughing along with them since she is not paying that much attention to Finn. Brittany is still confused, Mike looks impressed with how quickly this all developed, and Sam and Quinn are standing on the edges of everything, ready to jump in at a moment's notice.

Mr. Schue decides that he has had enough and shouts to get them all quiet. He tells Rachel that she has to either change her shirt then come back in something more appropriate, or not come back at all. She wants to argue that this is not fair, and that she has done nothing wrong, especially when the Cheerios have such short skirts, but she quickly realizes that she won't get anywhere that way.

So, she storms out, slinging her bag over her shoulder without so much as another word to anyone.

She heads to the library because she still has over an hour before she leaves to meet Shelby. Before she goes though, she actually does change out of her shirt, not because of what Mr. Schue said to her, but because she does not want that to be the first impression Shelby has of her. She needs to ease into that conversation gently.

She's not in the library very long before Santana joins her. Apparently, the Cheerio got kicked out of glee too because she forgot that Mr. Schue understands everything she attempts to say surreptitiously in Spanish. Go figure.

Rachel is aware that she's never had a one on one conversation with Santana before. She starts doing her homework so that Santana will take the hint and leave, but Santana keeps talking at her.

"He didn't cheat on you."

It takes Rachel a while to realize that Santana is addressing her. Even after she does realize, she makes a point of continuing to write, ignoring what the cheerleader is saying.

"It was just that one time. Last year."

Rachel flips through her textbook, makes a note of something in the margin of her page.

"C'mon midget, I'm trying to have a conversation with you here," Santana attempts, slamming her hands down on the table and trying to get up into Rachel's face.

Rachel looks up at Santana, "I know." Then she goes back to her notes.

"He fucking told me he loves you." Santana obviously expects this to be the kicker, but Rachel makes no more attempts at conversation.

"You don't care," Santana says with sudden realization. Inadvertently, Rachel shrugs her shoulders.

She can feel the heat of Santana's glare on her, but Rachel tries her best to look as if she is still reading, completely unmoved by this whole interaction.

That is until Santana reaches across the table and grabs Rachel's phone. Rachel sees the movement out of the corner of her eye, lets out a yelp and leaps out of her chair.

She's made it too easy for her. The screen is open to one that has all of her and Jesse's text messages from the last week. Rachel should have been more vigilant.

"Santana! Give that back!"

This is where Santana's height works to her advantage and she manages to dodge Rachel's arms, while somehow reading the phone's contents.

Eventually, Rachel senses that her attempts to get the phone back are useless. From the look on Santana's face, she already has enough incriminating information to make Rachel's world crumble.

Rachel folds her arms and rests her weight against the table as she faces Santana. Obviously, the charade is over, and she's thinking of the best way to deal with this – the best show face to put on.

Santana lowers the phone from eye-level, and, unexpectedly, hands it back to Rachel.

"I told you you should have you deleted his number," Santana finally says.

Rachel isn't expecting the soft tone in Santana's voice or anything along the lines of what Santana just said.

"I couldn't," Rachel admits.

Santana doesn't answer but Rachel looks up to see that she is nodding, although she is not sure why.

Suddenly, Santana lets out a laugh. "He goes down on you …," she laughs again, "That's where all of this is coming from."

Rachel blushes down to the soles of her feet, but her embarrassment turns to something akin to anger when Santana keeps laughing. She would have never thought that Santana was this perceptive.

"You can stop laughing at me and just go tell everyone else," Rachel says icily, "Then you can all laugh at me together, not that you need any more motivation."

"Lighten up, Rachel. You take yourself so damn seriously all the time. You're not Ms. Perfect. It's nice to know that you can let loose and have a little fun." Santana is wiping tears from the corners of her eyes, still laughing.

"Did you and Finn ever…?" Rachel's not exactly sure what Santana is referring to – but the answer to all of the above is no. She shakes her head, seeing no use at this point in not answering her questions. "No."

Santana laughs again. "Good for you. No one deserves that. He was terrible. It took him six tries to even get it in the right place."

Rachel is caught off-guard by where this conversation is leading, but Santana doesn't seem the least bit ill at ease.

"Here I thought that you were after Puck and you're actually still fucking that St. James kid."

Rachel winces. She's not _fucking_ anybody.

She can't stand it anymore. She needs to know what Santana is planning on telling everyone.

"So," she starts, "Are you going to tell them?"

"I haven't decided yet. I have to figure out what's in it for me." Santana states diplomatically. "Maybe."

Rachel rolls her eyes. "Please, Santana," she says in a frustrated tone. "I just handed you the greatest thing ever. You can go use it to destroy me like you've always wanted to do. Go tell everyone that I'm with Jesse again."

"I'm not a slut."

Rachel does a double take. She's pretty sure that statement has no relationship to what they were previously talking about.

"I never said…" but Santana cuts her off with a look.

Okay, Rachel's probably said that once or twice. Everyone does. She would have thought that Santana was proud of it.

"I have the highest GPA on the Cheerios, I've only ever been with four guys and I have dreams too, you know. I've wanted to go to Sarah Lawrence since forever."

"That's a really good school," Rachel says, somewhat perplexed as to what this conversation is now about.

Santana nods. "Help me get in."

"What?"

"You've got NYU begging for you already. Help me with my application and stuff for Sarah Lawrence," She pauses, "Obviously you won't tell anyone about this. I may not be a slut but I have a reputation to uphold."

"And in return, you won't…" Rachel feels like she is making a deal with the devil or Satan, more accurately.

"I won't tell them that Jesse makes your toes curl." Santana says jokingly. Then she laughs again, rolls her eyes, "If he even does."

"He does," Rachel says quietly, not looking at the other girl.

Santana smiles as if she is proud of her. "Go ahead, Berry. Go get yours."

II.

Rachel pulls into Carmel High's parking lot about two minutes after she told Shelby that she would meet her.

She's still not sure if she can trust the cheerleader not to reveal her relationship with Jesse, but, oddly, she's not too concerned about it at the moment. The whole incident with the shirt earlier has impressed upon her that her life with the glee club is not going to be easy, regardless of whether or not she is dating Jesse.

She's still stunned by her conversation with Santana. She's thought about it on the ride over here and she thinks that the cheerleader really must be lonely. Brittany is dating Artie and Puck has been away. Quinn is HBIC again and Santana's still in her shadow even post baby-gate. No wonder she's letting Rachel into her life.

Shelby is waiting for her in the parking lot, next to her own car, and Rachel is thankful that she does not have to go walking the halls of Carmel to find her. That could only lead to trouble. As she parks, she's reminded of the few times that she's been here before, which makes her think of Jesse. She's going to have to call him tonight. She's sure that she will have a lot to tell him.

Shelby hugs her when she sees her because it seems like the thing to do. Rachel returns it, but she feels the weight of the evening before them. Shelby drives to the Italian restaurant and the hostess greets them warmly and comments on their resemblance.

Shelby tells her she looks great, and that she likes her bangs. Rachel says she looks good too, and after a quick awkward pause, says that she uses her star cup often.

They order and Shelby asks the question that Rachel can tell has been bugging her a while. "Did you see Jesse when you were at NYU?"

Rachel nods her head.

"And he told you everything that I said?"

Rachel steals a sip of water before she answers. "Sort of."

She knows she's giving the type of monosyllabic answers that she hates. She breathes in. "He didn't have to tell me. I was with him when you called."

She sees recognition dawn on Shelby's face, actually watches the puzzle pieces click together as Shelby places the time of the conversation, the sleepy quality of Jesse's voice, his hesitation to talk to her.

Shelby smiles a small, cynical smile. She is shaking her head, not looking at Rachel. Finally, she speaks.

"All this time, I thought you hated me for bringing him into your life. I beat myself up over it so many times. He wouldn't even talk to me," here she laughs. "And you two are together?" she asks incredulously.

It's a rhetorical question; Rachel can tell. Shelby continues.

"Was that whole NYU visit just some ruse to see him?"

"No," Rachel replies. "I had no idea he was there. But then he apologized and we got back together."

"I thought you were dating that giant kid." She appears to be searching her brain for Finn's name, but can't locate it.

Rachel smiles at the description. "I was," she says pointedly. Shelby seems to grasp what she is saying.

"Jesse didn't pressure you into anything, did he?"

Rachel tries to fight her blush. She scratches her cheek and shakes her head. "No… we actually haven't … yet."

Maybe she was wrong to think that this conversation wouldn't be this awkward.

"And you want to talk about … that?" Shelby asks, sounding like the premise less than thrills her.

"I just want to talk," Rachel says.

Rachel starts talking about Finn and Santana, and then Santana today and before she knows it, she's talking about slushies and glee club social standing, and Mr. Schue's dictatorship.

After she gets it all off her chest, Rachel's hardly touched her vegan lasagna and Shelby has tears in her eyes.

"Oh, honey."

Rachel nods, slices into her lasagna with her fork. Shelby calls the waitress over and orders the biggest non-dairy sundae that they can make. Two spoons.

For the next hour or so, Shelby proceeds to tell Rachel about every serious relationship that she's had in her life, why they failed and how devastated they left her. She talks openly about sex, about them cheating on her. She talks about how she was a band geek with braces, who didn't get her first kiss until her second year of college. She speaks about living with a man in New York who had tried to hit her once, and she left.

Rachel is amazed. She's never had this before – this type of openness with another woman. Even if she can't directly place herself in Shelby's position in any of her stories, she still appreciates her telling them; the raw emotion behind them.

It's time for Rachel to go home, but Shelby wants to tell her one more thing. "I know what I told Jesse about not wanting to be your friend, but I'm here if you ever need to talk. You can call me anytime. I could never talk to my mom about any of this, and I don't ever want to do that to you."

They stand to leave. Shelby hugs her again, but it feels more genuine this time. "You are beautiful, and passionate, and caring and so talented. Don't let anyone ever take that away from you."

Rachel nods, slightly preoccupied with leaving and feeling sort of overwhelmed with how today has played out.

"And you tell Jesse that if he dares to hurt you, I will personally hunt him down." Rachel chuckles, promises to relay the message as she hugs Shelby goodbye yet again in the Carmel High parking lot.

III.

She calls him later that night when she's sure that he's out of rehearsal.

"Shelby's going to hunt you down if you ever hurt me," Rachel opens, "We had dinner tonight," she explains.

"I give her permission to hunt me down if I ever hurt you." Rachel hears a groan from Jesse's side of the call and then him laughing.

"John thinks that I'm feeding you lines. He hopes you're smart enough not to fall for them," Jesse states, laughing.

Jesse tells her to hang on for a second so that he can see John out and then talk to her. He wants to hear more about how her 'statement' went this afternoon.

She explains to him how Mr. Schue kicked her out of glee club, how Santana found her, and the results of that particular conversation.

Jesse finds all this somewhat hilarious. His day consisted of two classes, his on-campus job in the library, and then rehearsal with the Coppertones. Nothing exciting.

"Do you think that she'll tell them?"

"I don't know, but there's nothing I can do about it now." Rachel says.

She slides into her bed as she keeps talking to him. "I have that interview with Troy tomorrow." On Jesse's suggestion, she had decided to get a job at the music store where they had first met. He knows the owner and he had assured her that the interview was just a formality.

"Which means that tickets won't be a problem, but time will," Jesse states realistically. "I wish that I could promise you that I could come every two weeks."

"I hate that this all falls on you," Rachel complains. He appreciates her concern but it's a moot point. They both know that he's the only one with freedom of movement. At this stage, her dads are not letting her go to New York to sleep with her boyfriend.

She sighs, the day taking its toll on her. "Will you sing me to sleep?"

He sings 'When you wish upon a star' to her and waits for her breathing to even out. When he's sure that she's asleep, he whispers to her, "I hope I never hurt you again."


	21. Chapter 21

_**I love all of you! Happy Holidays! Thank you so much for your responses to both this story and Long Awaited Honeymoon. Your reviews have been really heartwarming and inspirational. Keep 'em coming! **_

Chapter 21

I.

Allie knocks on the Dean's door at 4:53pm on Friday. She's had one of the busiest days of the academic year so far. A group of prospective graduate students from all across the United Kingdom had gotten stranded in Chicago due to a snowstorm that had canceled their connecting flight. The entire day's worth of programming that she had planned for them had to be postponed, other arrangements for them made, and she had spent the entire day on the phone with American Airlines trying to get the group to New York. Yes, she does realize that Chicago is further from Europe than New York is. That fact has just added to the stress of her day and the hilarity of the situation.

Thankfully, she had done most of her research on the Rachel Berry situation yesterday. Kylie Bilson had spent about five minutes in her office before she had spilled the whole story. Allie had actually felt sorry for Rachel and how much she had misplaced her confidence in the girl. Kylie had confirmed that Rachel had spent all three nights with Jesse in his room and that Rachel had asked Kylie to say otherwise. It had been too easy to corroborate her story with the front desk staff in Jesse's dorm, many of whom had seen Rachel exit and enter with Jesse various times during their 8am – 11pm shifts.

She had felt torn as to what to do with the information. She feels like she owes Jesse and Rachel each a warning that the Dean intends to call her parents. They have done nothing wrong, and normally the university wouldn't care, so she feels like they are being unfairly singled out for something.

For all anyone knows, one of them could have spent all three nights on the air mattress that the front desk staff said that Jesse checked out for the entire duration of her stay. Allie allows herself to believe this for about ten seconds before she picture's Jesse's curls and remembers his confidence and the obvious tension between the two teens. Rachel must be the most honorable young girl in the world if she made it through the entire weekend without compromising her virtue in anyway.

But, she realizes that making the Dean happy and keeping her job is the most important thing right now. She knocks on the Dean's door and she can tell that he's on his way out of the office. She apologizes for missing her 12pm deadline, but reassures him that the Socrates group is now on a flight to La Guardia and that all their programming has been rescheduled. He doesn't say anything, but she can tell that he is intently listening. Allie confirms that Rachel Berry spent all three nights with Jesse St. James in his dorm room.

She tells him about the air mattress and the possibility that their visit was extremely innocent. He looks up from where he is gathering papers to look her in the eye, and he chuckles, shaking his head to himself. She's never felt more foolish and she starts to retreat from his office. He thanks her for her hard work, tells her to enjoy her weekend.

"I'll talk to her parents first thing on Monday," he says.

II.

After school on Friday, Rachel is changing out of her interview clothes while Kurt is looking through her closet. Jesse had been right, Troy had hired on her on the spot. She starts tomorrow, and will work Sunday too, but she will be able to change around her schedule for the weekends that Jesse is in town. It's the best job that she can imagine. She gets to give music suggestions for a living, and when the store is slow she can do her homework.

"Why the sudden need for a job?" Kurt asks, as he tries on one of her tu-tus from a middle school dance recital over his skinny jeans.

"Just saving up for NYU," Rachel answers. She tosses him the angel wings that had also been a part of her costume, laughing as he clambers for it.

"You have a pure costume wardrobe," he criticizes, "Nothing in here should be worn on a normal school day. It's either over the top or just plain ugly."

"Tell me how you really feel," Rachel says, laughing, "I like how I dress."

"You would." She looks at him with an exasperated glance. It's an insult that falls far short of his usual ones.

"Forget it," Kurt says. He's finding it harder to be genuinely mean to her. She can tell.

He reaches for the t-shirt that had caused such a scene in glee club yesterday, removes it from its hanger. "And where, pray tell, did you get this mastermind of a shirt?"

She hesitates. "Does our bubble of secrecy extend to this conversation?" she asks. She wants to test her boundaries with him.

"Since you now have to tell me the answer to that question," he stresses, "I will promise you anything," Kurt finishes eagerly. "Finn will never hear of this conversation."

It's an easy thing for him to promise. Finn has no idea where he is and doesn't know that he has developed this friendship with Rachel. He thinks that with the stress of the wedding and the move to the new house, what Finn doesn't know can't hurt him.

"Jesse gave it to me."

The full implication of her words doesn't escape him. "That was nice of him," Kurt tries lamely.

Rachel looks at him like she can't believe that he just said that with a straight face and without any hint of sarcasm.

"Go easy on me. You caught me off guard. You really let him get into your pants?" Kurt asks with genuine wonder.

Rachel rolls her eyes and counters with her own question; asks it with a raised eyebrow. "How long before you allow Blaine into your pants?"

Kurt is so pale that his blush actually turns him tomato red. "We've only kissed once. Well, more than once but it was that one time."

"Fair enough," Rachel answers. It's Kurt's turn to look at her with a raised eyebrow. He's about to ask her more probing questions when one of Rachel's dads calls up the stairs that Finn is here and is coming up to talk to her.

As Finn's thuds sound up the stairs, Rachel curses her dads' mantra that she fight her own battles. Sometimes she thinks that if she had a mother, she would have gone on the defensive on Rachel's behalf and not allowed Finn, the persistent ex-boyfriend, up to her room. She watches, amused, as Kurt takes off the tu-tu and leaps off of her bed into the less comfortable chair in the corner.

Finn enters the room, carrying a garment bag at shoulder level. He looks over at Kurt in the chair, smiles at him. He obviously thinks that Kurt is there to forward his agenda of getting back together with Rachel.

"Hey, Rachel. I came to drop this off," Finn says happily, while signaling to the garment bag with his free hand.

"What's in the bag?" Rachel asks.

"Your dress for the wedding," Finn says, looking over at Kurt for support. At about the same time, Kurt realizes that he hasn't told Rachel one important piece of information.

"Did I forget to mention that?" Kurt says with a false high-pitched laugh, "Carole decided to have the whole glee club perform at the wedding so she ordered dresses for everyone. Mr. Shue made the announcement during Glee yesterday. You were, um, indisposed."

Rachel shoots him a glare from across the room. Kurt shrugs his shoulders, takes that as his cue to leave.

"See you at home, Finn." He mouths the word 'Sorry' to Rachel, behind Finn's back, before he turns to leave the room.

"Kurt could have brought it," Rachel finally says. "I have to work that day. It will only be my second week on the job and I don't know if my boss will allow me to have the time off."

"You work now?"

Rachel nods. "I got a job at the music store on Columbus Drive. I'm trying to save money for NYU," she explains, telling him the same lie that she told to Kurt.

"What's gotten into you Rachel?" Finn asks suddenly, angrily. "You spend one weekend at NYU and suddenly you feel like you're better than everyone else? Better than me? I never thought you could be this stuck up."

"I never said that Finn," Rachel says, deciding to ignore the accusation that she's stuck up.

"You didn't have to," Finn says, "It's obvious."

Rachel folds her arms, wishes that she could leave her room and her house altogether.

Finn's not done. "Everyone thinks that you act like a diva and I've always loved you in spite of that. I don't know why that's suddenly not enough for you."

"I apologize for making it so hard for you to like me," Rachel says, "It's a good thing that we're not together anymore then."

Finn looks perplexed as to how she turned his words against him. When did Rachel get so hostile? She had always been the first one to back down from one of their fights. He decides to leave it there, for now.

"Mom wants you to tell me if the dress fits before I leave." He holds the garment bag out to her as he speaks.

"I'm not sure I'll be able to make it," she says challengingly.

"Try to," he says, "I want you to be there, even if it is as just a friend."

She grabs the bag from him and retreats to her bathroom to try it on. She hurriedly pulls the dress on, determines that it's fine, if a bit long on her. She calls to him through the door that it fits fine and that he should tell Carole thank you.

"Aren't you going to show it to me?" he asks, shocked that she hasn't reentered her bedroom.

He hears her exhale then she walks out of the bathroom with her arms folded against her chest.

"There. It fits."

He seems a bit stunned. His mouth drops open. "You look really pretty, Rachel."

"Your mom picked the dress," she says automatically. She softens, reconsiders her anger. "Thank you."

There is awkward silence for about two minutes before he makes up some wedding-related excuse to leave. She doesn't even walk him down the stairs.

Hiram comes up to check on her when Finn leaves. She's still in her dress, lying back on her bed with her hands in her lap.

"You okay, sweetie?"

She wishes everything was out in the open. She can't even remember why she's keeping all these secrets in the first place.

"I hope so," she answers her daddy. She's not wholly convinced.

III.

She calls Kurt after Hiram leaves her room. "Thanks for abandoning me," she states.

"I have a way to make it up to you," Kurt promises.

"Does it involve you in a tu-tu?" Rachel says with as straight a tone as she can manage.

"It involves a date," Kurt says excitedly, "Tomorrow night. His name is Malcolm and he is in the Warblers with me."

"You're setting me up on a date with the enemy?" She wants to tell him that its not a good idea, for a variety of reasons, some of which she won't mention, but he interrupts her.

"I want to ease into dating Blaine with a double date. He and Malcolm are really close. Mal is really cute and he has a great personality, and he sings." Kurt sounds like he's pleading with her and demanding that she do it at the same time.

"Kurt. I'm not really up to dating anyone right now."

"I'm not asking you to sleep with him, Rachel," he says exasperatedly. "It's pizza, on a Saturday night with a bunch of friends. It's not like you have anything better to do."

She thinks he's probably right. It would be nice to go out and do something rather than stay home and miss Jesse. She's also more than a little curious to meet Blaine.

"Fine. But don't expect anything from me. I'm there to be the fourth wheel and to support you. Malcolm is collateral damage."

"Fair enough," he answers her, using the same tone that she used earlier when she said the same thing to him. "You still have to finish the story you were telling me," he says. "You're telling me the whole thing when I come over tomorrow to get ready for our date."

Great, she thinks, she can't wait to explain this to Jesse.

IV.

She hangs up with Kurt when her phone tells her that she has a call waiting. She doesn't know when she got this popular. It's a number that she doesn't recognize but it's a local area code.

It's Santana. This morning, she had approached Santana in the girls' locker room and handed over her bounty: books about applying to college, books on writing personal statements specifically, books on taking the SATs, a student agenda with important deadlines marked in them, and a personal calendar that had dates that Santana had to turn in stuff to Rachel to proof-read and/or comment on.

Santana had looked at her like she was crazy.

In response to her look of disbelief Rachel had replied: "Whenever I do something, I do it well."

"That's what Jesse said," Santana had retorted with a smirk.

Santana is on the phone to get Rachel's recommendations on additional colleges to apply to so she can talk to her parents about them. Sarah Lawrence is still her first choice, but Rachel's information had alerted her to the fact that there might be other schools that she could be interested in.

They have a perfectly civil conversation, and at the end of it, Rachel saves Santana's number to her phone.

V.

She's that sort of obvious pretty that Europeans are famous for: eyeliner but no eye shadow, layers with no bulk, accent with no misinterpretation, and she wants him.

He's been in this type of situation multiple times before. Well, maybe not this exact situation, but the context is familiar.

She's an Italian in the French graduate program, which means that she speaks French with an Italian accent. It's cute.

He talks to her in his broken French for about 15-minutes, practices the vocabulary that he's learned in the first few weeks of the semester. At the end of their session, she signs the slip that gives him credit for their time together and, in one fluid motion, tears a piece of paper out of her Moleskine notebook and writes her number and address on it.

"We're having a wine and cheese party tomorrow night at my place," she says, resting her hand on his arm, way closer to him than she should be.

"We miss home," she explains with an exaggerated movement of her hands. "You should come."

Jesse nods, slips her note into his pocket, turns to leave.

"I'm Claire," she says, even her plain name sounding more enticing than it should with her accent.

He turns back. "Jesse," he says.

_**Don't hate me. **_


	22. Chapter 22

_**Thank you for all your great reviews! This chapter continues to build up to something that will happen very soon, so stick with**_ _**me!**_

I.

"Come in," John shouts from his place at his desk, recognizing the signature knock of one Jesse St. James at his door.

Jesse walks in with a shit-eating grin on his face. It's enough to make John stop reading and turn his desk chair around to face him as Jesse makes himself comfortable on John's roommate's bed.

It's obvious he can't hold in his news. "I am a god among women," Jesse says with the usual pompousness John has come to expect from him with girls; every girl, that is, except Rachel Berry.

"Did Rachel finally give you some?" John asks, going with the most obvious reason for Jesse's apparent good mood.

"No," Jesse says, his face momentarily lapsing into disappointment, "I'm not seeing her until next week."

John's about to ask him what brought on this latest display of arrogance, but Jesse beats him to the punch by thrusting a piece of note paper in his direction. The piece of paper has a phone number and an address on it. There's a heart dotted over an 'I' in the second line of the address.

"Her name is Claire," Jesse says significantly, "She's one of the French graduate students."

John sighs wearily. "Look St. James, I know that you're not used to this relationship stuff, so take it from someone who does know. Going on a date with someone else while having a girlfriend is cheating." John repeats the word 'cheating' slowly, as if he were talking to a five-year-old. "Good god, you and Rachel have only been back together for a week! Can't you keep it in your pants for longer than that?"

Jesse looks back at him with fire in his eyes, curls his hands into fists. "I'm not cheating on Rachel." He calms down a bit. "John, this is for you, not that you deserve it."

"Really now," John says, obviously not believing him.

Jesse tries again, this time punctuating every word. "Her name is Claire. The cute, European girl who wears the pearls, the lace, and the beret; the one that you've been drooling over; the one that you picked up smoking again for, and who you have been following around for weeks. Her name is Claire, and her address and telephone number are on that paper."

John looks at the paper with a new sense of awe.

Jesse, seeing that he has finally gotten through to him, continues. "She and her friends are having a wine and cheese party tomorrow night and we're invited."

John regains his words, interrupts. "You mean _you_ are invited. I take it I didn't come up in the conversation at any point. You're the one she wants."

"I'll go with you to the party, make it clear that I have a girlfriend, and then she'll redirect her attention to you. It's obvious that she's looking for a hookup."

Jesse makes his tone less serious, almost mocking. "Do that soulful singer/songwriter thing that you do so well. She's sure to ditch her panties. I bet they're lace too."

"I bet," John chuckles. "Okay, I'm in. But if it becomes clear that she still wants you, then we leave, no questions asked."

Jesse holds up both his hands in front of him. "Absolutely." He stands, reaches over to clap John on the back. "Good. I was hoping that you would take up this opportunity. You've been whining about getting back into the game for weeks and besides making out with Lexi a couple of times, you've gotten nowhere and have no other options."

"Actually," John states carefully, "I do have one sure option, I'm just certain you're not going to like it."

John doesn't leave Jesse in the dark too long. "Meg."

He can tell that Jesse is surprised, so he continues to explain. "She called me last night and asked if I wanted to come over and practice for Coppertones this weekend. It sounded pretty innocent but we both know … it's Meg."

"She's only doing it to get back at me, for breaking it off with her, and for Rachel," Jesse states with absolute certainty. It's a harsh statement, but he feels he owes it to John to warn him. Bros before hos, or something along those lines.

"Trust me, I know," John says, "But it's sex. Anyways, do you care? Especially now that you have Rachel?"

"No, not at all." Jesse states. John may be becoming one of his best friends ever, but he still didn't know how to read through Jesse's show face. The idea of John with Meg is strange, Jesse will admit, but he takes comfort in the fact that both Meg and John will just be using each other, and all three of them are aware that it is Jesse, and not John, that Meg still wants.

"So," John says, to break the awkwardness of the conversation, "I am calling this weekend Operation get me laid. Then, next weekend will be Operation get you laid."

Jesse laughs. "I'm not sure about that. Rachel wants to wait. She's still a virgin." Jesse pauses, smirks. "Well, technically she is. She's not quite as innocent after last weekend."

"Tell me, then, was it worth all the waiting and the pining for her?" John asks the question teasingly, but they both know he's serious. His and Jesse's friendship had gotten started one night early in the school year, at a theater orientation party where they had both discussed their high school loves over some beers and a couple of shots of tequila.

Jesse nods, uncharacteristically reserved. "Definitely. She's already the best I've ever had."

II.

She Skypes him at 8am on Saturday morning for another one of their prearranged dates. She's wide awake but still in her towel, hair wet from the shower she took after her run. He answers the call groggily. From what she can see, he's not wearing anything but his boxers.

"8am on Saturday sounds so much better when its not actually 8am on Saturday," he complains.

"Sorry," she says, "I have to be at work at 10. I wanted to talk to you for a while and I still haven't gotten dressed yet."

"I can see that," he says, "Drop the towel. That will wake me up."

"Jesse," she says, blushing. She's still not used to showing off her body, despite what they've done. Almost a week has passed since the last time he saw her like this, and its almost as if some of her modesty is returning. Almost.

"Come on gorgeous, I've seen you naked before. We don't have to do anything. I just want to see you again."

She gets up, walks over to her room door to make sure that it is locked. The last thing she needs is for her dads to walk in on this, but it's still early and they like to sleep in on the weekends.

"Only if you do too," she says with a raised eyebrow, walking back towards the computer.

In response, he takes a couple of steps back, takes off his boxers, and throws them towards the camera in jest. He's already aroused and she can tell he's refraining from doing anything that will make her feel uncomfortable.

She loosens her towel and throws it on her bed, completely exposed to him. She has her eyes closed while he looks at her, but she opens them when she hears him groan.

"You're so beautiful, Rach, so beautiful. I wish you were here with me."

"Me too," she whispers. She craves his touch so badly, and she's having a hard time keeping her own hands by her sides.

"We can pretend," he says, with hope in his voice, "I'll tell you what to do."

She shuts her eyes again, completely trusting him, and wanting whatever it is he is insinuating. "Okay," she says.

Twenty minutes later, she's slumped in her chair and she opens one eye and then the other to look at him through the camera. "I can't believe that I let you talk me into that," she scolds, half-seriously.

"I love watching you," he says reverently, his breathing still not completely normal.

She stands on wobbly legs to retrieve a t-shirt and a pair of underwear. "We have serious things to talk about," she manages.

"Like what?" he asks. He can't seem to remember much of anything right now.

"All of New Directions is now performing at Finn's mom's wedding. It means I have to go for at least a couple of hours on Sunday, but I can see you before and after that."

"Can't I be your date to the wedding?"

She can't tell if he's being serious or not. "No! I'm not showing up with you to my ex-boyfriend's mother's wedding two weeks after we've broken up. It's tactless."

"Fine. It was worth a shot," he says dejectedly. "I guess I'll just spend that time doing homework."

"We still have the rest of the weekend to be together," she says cheerfully. "I promise I will find some way to make it up to you."

She pauses hesitantly. "There's more. I have a date tonight."

"With Finn?" She can detect a note of worry in his usually cool, collected tone.

"No, definitely not. It's just a double date with Kurt and his new boyfriend and his friend. This guy sings in the glee club at Dalton with Blaine, Kurt's boyfriend. Kurt wants to take their relationship very very slow and he needed a fourth wheel for their first date. I made it clear to Kurt that I was only going as a friend."

"I didn't realize that we were seeing other people, Rachel. Otherwise, I would have accepted the date I got asked out on yesterday." He knows exactly the reaction that his words will have and he is pleased when she reacts accordingly.

"Excuse me?" she says loudly before regrouping and lowering her voice, aware of her dads' presence down the hall. "Who asked you out?"

"I had conversation practice with one of the French graduate students yesterday. She complimented my French, invited me to a party that she is throwing tonight, and gave me her number." He relates these details matter of factly, which makes her even angrier.

"And at any point did you mention to her that you have a girlfriend?"

"Did you mention that you have a boyfriend to Kurt and this other guy?"

"No," she concedes, "But that's different."

"They seem like exactly the same scenario to me," Jesse states confidently, knowing that he is right.

"It's different," she stresses. "I have no interest in this guy. I'm only doing it for Kurt. But you obviously like this girl."

"I don't," he promises. "I did it for John. He's had a crush on her for weeks. He even started smoking again so he would have a reason to run into her when she took her smoke breaks on the quad. I'm going to go with him to the party, introduce them, and hope that things work out for them."

She's still quiet, so Jesse continues, looking straight ahead into the camera. "I swear I'm not interested in her. John's only ever been with one person: his high school girlfriend. She goes to Berkeley and she found someone else within two months there. He was heartbroken, but now he's ready to get out and meet other girls. I'm trying to help him out. It's just strange because now the tables have turned. He's the one looking for casual hookups and I'm the one in the serious relationship."

She manages to contain her smile when he calls their relationship serious, but inside her chest her heart is fluttering. She knows he's never had reason to use that term before.

But then she remembers where this conversation started. "Is that really what your life is like?" she asks, surprised. "Random girls just giving you their numbers everyday?" She recalls her slushie-stained training bra, and can't help but think that they are on two very different levels socially. Sometimes, knowing that he has all that available to him, she wonders what he sees in her.

"I choose you, remember?" He reminds her because he can sense where her mind is going. "I love you."

"I'm still mad at you," she says. "Please don't do anything stupid."

III.

She absolutely loves her new job at the music store. Most of her work entails talking to people, and answering their questions, which she's always been good at, and she's even gotten compliments on her performance of Don't Rain on My Parade at Sectionals a year ago from some of the regulars. She thinks that she might be in the only place in Ohio where people actually know the difference between Bach and Beck, between the Titanic soundtrack and the Titanic cast album.

Shelby stops by around 2pm with Beth. They are both surprised to see each other, but they quickly recover. Rachel tells her manager that she's taking her 20-minute break, and she and Shelby grab a quick cup of coffee at the Starbucks next door.

Beth looks more like Puck than Quinn, and due to her darker hair and features, she could actually pass for Shelby's biological daughter. With the complete innocence of a baby, Beth gurgles happily to Rachel, grabs her finger, and plays in her hair. Shelby keeps asking Rachel if what Beth is doing is okay, but Rachel can't help it, she finds herself completely in love with the chubby, happy little girl.

She and Shelby make comfortable small talk until its time for Rachel to get back to work. Shelby asks her if she works every Saturday, since it is her usual day to pick up music for Vocal Adrenaline. "Unless Jesse is here," Rachel responds, "Then I'll probably work my hours during the week."

"I have some things that I want to give you," Shelby says. "Sheet music, older albums, stuff like that. I think you might like them. I can drop them off some time."

"Maybe we can work out another time after school," Rachel compromises, "I still haven't mentioned you to my dads."

"That's probably for the best. At least until you turn eighteen."

Rachel nods, gives Shelby a hug and Beth a wave.

"It was good to see you," Shelby says. "We need to do more of this."

"Next week will be packed because we have extra practices before our performance at Finn's mom's wedding, but I'm sure I can find one free afternoon."

"Just let me know," Shelby says as she turns to leave with Beth.

IV.

She's considering never allowing Kurt near her closet again when he, quite literally, throws one of her sweaters in the trash.

"Where are those jeans you wore when you corrupted the glee club?" he asks, while searching through each and every piece of clothing she owns for a suitable top.

She reaches into one of her drawers and pulls out the pants he requested.

"Put them on," he commands, as he finally selects a white sweater, one of her newer purchases, and hands it to her.

She goes into her bathroom and changes into the outfit. She's surprised, but glad, because it's more basic than she would have expected from Kurt, especially since she can tell he went on designer overload tonight.

She comes out of the bathroom and slips into the boots that he laid out for her. She grabs Jesse's grey scarf from the back of her closet door not only to complete the look, but also to have something to be close to him on her 'date.'

Kurt proclaims that she is "perfect" and he sits her down in front of her vanity to do her makeup.

He stops doing her makeup and tells her that she looks pissed. She is. She can't get her mind off Jesse and this party that he's going to with John and this girl. "It's nothing," she says, and it seems that she manages to convince him.

They go downstairs to wait for their dates but Blaine is late. Kurt starts pacing, mumbling to himself that he should have known that it was too good to be true, and that nothing ever works out for him in this town. Rachel tries to console him, but she's not in the best of spirits herself, and she can tell its not helping.

Finally, about 20 minutes after Blaine was supposed to arrive, the doorbell rings. She answers the door and Blaine starts immediately with his apologies for being late. Apparently, he went to Kurt's house first because he didn't remember that he was picking them up at Rachel's. But his apologies don't stop there, standing next to him is Malcolm, her date, and Finn, her ex-boyfriend.

Kurt joins her by the door and his one saving grace, Rachel thinks, is that he looks just as shocked to see Finn as she does.

Blaine explains. "I told Finn that we were going to get pizza, and he wanted to come along. The more the merrier, right?." Blaine is looking between Rachel and Kurt, begging both of them to forgive him with his eyes. Kurt has obviously told him about Rachel and Finn's history.

"It's okay for me to come along, right guys?" Finn asks, addressing both Kurt and Rachel. Though he says it coolly, Rachel and Kurt can tell that he's daring them both to say no. He didn't like that he was obviously left out of their double date, especially when Kurt was supposed to be winning Rachel back for him.

"Of course, Finn," Kurt finally says.

Rachel doesn't answer. It was going to be a long night.

_**I live for your reviews!**_


	23. Chapter 23

_**Extra long chapter as thanks for all the great reviews! You guys make writing this story really fun! This chapter took a really long time to write, but a lot happens in it… Things will really start moving once Jesse gets to Lima. **_

I.

She lasts a whole hour before she calls Hiram to pick her up. Their group date is all kinds of awkward, but as much as she wants to, she can't bring herself to blame Kurt. He's obviously uncomfortable doing anything remotely romantic with Blaine in front of Finn, and her heart goes out to him when she thinks of how much he had looked forward to his first official date.

She also feels for Malcolm, who is one of those all around nice guys that consistently tries to defuse tension with humor. Mal is interested in politics and current events, and she can tell that if Finn hadn't been around, the four of them would have easily had a good time and found something to talk about. But Finn is sullen and quiet throughout dinner, glaring at Mal when he offers to do something basic like refill Rachel's water glass, or when he and Blaine start talking about Dalton.

The best pizza place in Lima also happens to be the bowling alley, and Blaine suggests a game in a last-ditch effort to save the night. Mal conveniently finds a group of Dalton friends who need a fourth, and he disappears almost instantaneously. Kurt and Blaine have gone to get shoes for the rest of them, but they are taking far longer than necessary, and Rachel believes that there are whispered apologies and probably stolen kisses happening somewhere in the dark.

That leaves her with Finn.

"You seem distracted," he says, "You've been quiet all night." She has been distracted. As catastrophic as this night has been, her mind has been far away, on Jesse the whole time. It's nearing ten, and he's probably at that party by now.

She starts watching a couple near the dance floor, choosing to ignore Finn's comment. The couple looks to be in their early twenties and are sitting close together, her knees pulled up to her chest, his arms wrapped around one of her thighs, resting between her legs. It's not indecent, but its intimate, the sort of intimacy that comes from comfort with the other person and an obliviousness to the world around you.

She would give anything right now to be back in Jesse's room, with him holding her like that.

Finn follows her gaze to the couple, rests his hand on her knee. "We can have that," he says, moving his hand in a slow circle.

She allows herself a second to visualize it. Him moving his hand further up her thigh, kissing her with brute force instead of skill, and then she hears Santana's words in her head: 'nobody deserves that.' Suddenly, all she feels is pressure.

She shifts her knee out of his reach and says that she needs to go to the bathroom. On the way there, she meets Mal, who wants to make sure that she will get home alright because he's about to leave. He shoots a wary glance at Finn, distaste evident in his expression. She assures him that she is calling her dads to pick her up so that Blaine and Kurt can salvage the rest of their night. Mal tells her that it was nice to meet her, and politely kisses her goodbye on the cheek.

She waits in the bathroom for her dad to call her from the parking lot. Kurt walks in, looking for her. She tells him that her dad is on the way.

"What do you think of second base as a way to apologize for the first date from hell?" he asks.

She laughs quietly, but doesn't answer.

"Sorry about Finn," he says.

"It wasn't your fault," she replies.

"I really like Blaine," she says with a smile, hoping for a smile from him. "You guys are cute together."

"And Mal?" he asks.

"He seems like a really great friend," she says, stressing the last word.

Her dad calls to tell her that he is waiting for her outside. She reaches over to give Kurt a hug goodbye and tells him to enjoy second base. She wants details later.

She thinks twice about it, but then stops by their table to alert Finn to the fact that she is going home. He looks surprised. He was obviously expecting her to come back and join him.

"You could have told me that you were dating other guys."

"I'm not," she says defensively, before realizing that she's just told him a complete lie. "Malcolm is a friend of Blaine's."

"You said that we could still be friends," he tries gently. "Stay. Hang out with me. We always had fun bowling." He reaches for her hand, tries to get her to sit down.

She hates bowling. She's never seen the point of the game and her balls almost always ended up in the gutter. She's only ever done it with him, and she only stayed because he had kissed her and she had wanted more, even though he was dating Quinn at the time.

"My dad is waiting, Finn. I have to go."

She turns to leave, but he calls out to her. "You have a long time before you get to NYU, Rachel. You may be ready to leave, but we're stuck here together for the next two years. We might as well make the most of it."

She hates to admit that he has a point. She's been counting down the minutes until Jesse comes on Friday, but it only serves as a reminder of the distance between them and the length of time that stretches before them until she can make it to New York.

II.

Hiram can tell that she is troubled when she sits down in the car, but he's momentarily preoccupied by the fact that she's alone.

"Where are Kurt and Blaine?" he asks, "Don't they need a ride home, too?"

"They're probably fooling around somewhere," she laughs, thankful for the shift in her thoughts, "Don't worry. Blaine will drive Kurt home."

"That's definitely a sign of the times," Hiram says thoughtfully as he drives off, "It amazes me that young boys can be out nowadays and do things like make out in bowling alleys."

"What did you and dad do when you were dating?" Rachel asks, trying to imagine her dads as young men in love.

"By the time I dated your father, we were both in graduate school, as you know. We both had roommates and it took a little… um… creativity," Hiram laughs, remembering, "But we made it work." He glances sideways at Rachel. "Leroy will kill me for telling you any of this. He doesn't want to give you any bright ideas."

"It's nothing that I'm not already thinking about," Rachel says honestly.

"Do me a favor and don't mention that to your father," Hiram says, looking at her in the mirror. "He's already coming up with ways to keep you and Jesse busy this weekend, starting with dinner Friday night."

"He never did that with Finn," Rachel points out.

"We were never all that worried about you sleeping with Finn," Hiram says in a humorous tone, "You told him that you wanted to wait until you were 25, which we still fully support by the way." Hiram glances at her, and Rachel laughs quietly, looks out the window.

"On the other hand, Leroy is convinced that Jesse will get you pregnant."

"And you're not?" Rachel asks, surprised.

"I trust my daughter. I think we've both given you enough warnings and instructions by now. You always know that you can ask us any questions, but ultimately it's your decision." Hiram pauses, considers whether he wants to say this next part.

"We can see how much you care about him, honey. We're not naïve enough to ignore the obvious, but we're still your dads. Our first instinct is to protect you."

"Do you think that Jesse and I will make it?" Rachel is scared to ask the question, but she desperately wants someone else's opinion. She's always been logical and realistic. She knows the probability of long distance relationships working out is low. She just can't imagine Jesse and her failing after all they've been through.

"I think that if it's meant to work out, it will work out," Hiram answers sheepishly. He can tell that his answer doesn't satisfy her. "I've always liked Jesse," he adds, "And the fact that he's willing to fly out here to see you says a lot."

"When will you allow me to go back to New York to see him?" she asks boldly.

Hiram sighs. "You just turned 16, Rachel. As much as we trust you, we think that having parental support when your older boyfriend is around is a good idea." He stops in their driveway. "Not for a while at least, but he's more than welcome to come visit you here."

Hiram looks at her. "You seem down. Everything okay?"

"I just wish that time would speed up and I could go to NYU soon. It's not even just Jesse. I feel like that's where my future is, but I'm stuck here in Lima."

"I'm sorry if your father and I don't share the sentiment," Hiram chuckles. "Unfortunately, we actually like having you here in Lima." He ruffles her hair and then gets out of the car, "You're all we've got."

III.

Jesse must have texted her while she was talking to her dad on the drive home. She's pulling off her boots and jeans when she sees the light on her phone, and she laughs when she reads the message.

_I'm bored. _

Obviously, she doesn't have to worry about him and any French graduate students tonight.

She calls him because she wants to hear his voice.

"It's only 11. You all partied out?"

"That doesn't count as a party, it was a mob. Anyway, I want to hear about your date. Is he better looking than me?"

"Much better looking," she answers. "But you first. Tell me about what happened with this girl."

"There were so many people there, I doubt she remembered who she invited. John didn't need me at all. He walked up to her with a box of Swiss chocolates, played up his anti-American sentiment, they talked for a few minutes and then I lost track of them."

"So you're telling me that she didn't remember Jesse St. James? Is that even possible?"

"Ha ha ha" he says mockingly. "I thought it would be better if John didn't have the reminder that technically, I was the one she invited. Especially since…" He trails off, and she can tell that he just reconsidered whatever he was going to say to her.

"Especially since what?"

He delays a bit before answering her. "Meg asked him out. I told him that she was just doing it to get back at me."

"Is he interested in her?"

"Let's just say he's interested." There's a pause and she hears Jesse laugh out loud.

"What?" Rachel asks.

"John just sent me a text."

"And?"

John's text says _Lace Panties ;-p _,but Jesse's not about to tell Rachel that.

"He and Claire hooked up," he ad libs. "Now can you tell me about your night?" he asks, eager to change the subject.

"There's nothing much to tell. Finn decided to tag along and I left early."

"Finn came with you on your date?"

"It was a misunderstanding. Blaine went to Kurt's first to pick us up and Finn wanted to come. Kurt was mortified."

"Did he try anything?" Jesse asks, and she can hear the anger in his voice.

"Not really," Rachel replies, wanting to avoid the topic.

"Don't lie to me, Rachel," he warns.

"What did John's text actually say?" she counters. Two can play at this game.

"Claire is … was wearing lace panties. Now back to Finn."

She sighs. "He wants us to be friends and then he reminded me that we're both going to be in Lima for the next two years together."

"Jesse, you have nothing to worry about," she assures him, but she doesn't give him time to respond. "Does John know what type of panties I wear?"

He laughs, even though it was a serious question. "No. I will take that knowledge to the grave."

"Thank you," she says. She doesn't like the idea of him talking about her with his friends, even though she knows that guys talk just as much as girls do.

"Along with the knowledge of that spot on the inside of your left thigh that makes you explode, even with your clothes on. Or that sound you make when you want me to kiss you, even though you don't want to ask."

"I hate you," she says unconvincingly, thankful that no one is around to see her face. 

"You love me," he says confidently.

"Do I satisfy you?" she asks in a small voice. It's a question that has been on her mind for a while. His effect on her is undeniable to both of them, but she has little on which to base her effect on him.

"Yes, baby," he says, leaving no room for debate. "I don't know how to say this without sounding sappy."

"You can sound sappy," she says, laughing, "I won't mind."

"I feel like singing Your Body is a Wonderland to you. There's no comparison."

"That really was sappy, St. James," she teases, but she's eternally grateful for his honesty.

"You asked for it," he states huskily. "I just can't wait until Friday so I can show you."

They end up having a virtual movie night, both of them watching Charlie and the Chocolate factory in their respective rooms, while talking over the phone. Her dads come in to kiss her goodnight and they even say goodnight to Jesse when they realize that he is on the phone with her.

"You're coming to dinner on Friday night, Jesse," Leroy shouts into her phone, "Rachel tells us that your flight gets in at 6, so will around 6:45 work for you?"

Rachel answers for him. "I'm picking him up from the airport," she tells them, "So we'll just come directly here."

After her dads leave the room, she relays to him most of the conversation that she had earlier with Hiram.

"Sounds like fun," Jesse says sarcastically.

"I have some ideas as to how to get around their restrictions," Rachel says excitedly, "We've already fooled around in your dorm room and had Skype sex, I figure we might as well go along with the teenage romantic comedy stereotype and glean ideas from our idols. I've made a list."

IV.

Hiram picks up the phone at the nurses' station, ready with his apologies. Leroy's been on hold for the last 15 minutes while he dealt with an emergency patient.

"I just got a call from the NYU Dean of Admissions. He wanted to alert us to the fact that Rachel spent each night of her visit last week with Jesse in his dorm room." Leroy sounds not angry, but amused. "The host they arranged for her was unavailable on the first night, so she decided to stay with Jesse, and remain with him for the entire weekend. The Dean thought that we should know in case anything, I'm quoting him here, "came up" with Rachel."

"What did you say to him?" Hiram asks.

"I told him that we were aware of their relationship and that we would speak with Rachel about it."

"Does it affect her chances of getting in?"

"No. He was quite clear that this didn't have any effect on either her or Jesse's standings with the school. Since it was their mistake with the host, they needed to follow their full disclosure policy."

"Okay," Hiram says, removing his glasses and wiping his face, "So we talk to Rachel."

"We talk to Rachel," Leroy repeats.

V.

Immediately after school on Monday, Rachel enters the choir room for the extra glee practice for the wedding performance. She waves to Kurt, who seems to be speaking to Mercedes again, but he ignores her. She watches as he exchanges a glance with Finn, before turning to comment on Mercedes' shirt.

She's about to re-select her seat when Ms. Pillsbury walks in and says that she needs to talk to her. She escorts her down the hall to the guidance office, where she finds both of her dads waiting.

Leroy takes the lead. "We got a call today from the NYU Dean of Admissions, Rachel. He had some interesting things to say about your accommodations last weekend. Your father and I think that it might be helpful if you had another woman to speak to, so we've asked for Ms. Pillsbury's help."

Crap, she thinks.

"We're not angry with you," Hiram emphasizes, "We just want to make sure that you have all the resources you need to deal with this situation."

"Are they going to punish Jesse?"

"No, honey. They just wanted to make sure that we knew since you were under their care for the weekend."

"Why didn't you tell us that you slept in Jesse's room all three nights you were in New York?" Leroy asks, almost conversationally.

"I didn't want you to overreact," she says quietly, "I didn't know how to explain it to you."

"So you two had sex?"

"No." She tucks her hair behind her ear, a sure sign that she is uncomfortable.

"But you were intimate."

"Yes," she says, finally looking her father in the face.

"Do you need to see a gynecologist, schedule a pregnancy test or anything like that?" Leroy asks, obviously out of his element.

Rachel plays with her hands in her lap. "I already spoke to Dr. Miller," she says, referring to the woman care specialist that she started seeing at the age of 11, when she got her first period, "She wrote me a prescription for the pill but there's no possible way that I could be pregnant."

"You're sure?" Hiram asks, but she can tell that he believes her.

"I'm positive," Rachel says with absolute confidence.

She can tell that some of the weight has lifted from the room. "Is there anything else you want to tell us sweetheart?" Leroy asks. She's glad that she's back to sweetheart with him.

"I didn't mean to lie to you," she says, a tear falling down her face, "And please don't blame Jesse."

They leave her to talk with Ms. Pillsbury alone for a while. The guidance counselor starts pulling out pamphlets, but Rachel has more serious matters to discuss with her.

"Please don't tell Mr. Schuester about this," she pleads with Ms. Pillsbury.

"I'm required by the school to keep this meeting confidential, Rachel."

"But I know you tell him everything," Rachel accuses her.

Ms. Pillsbury starts to defend herself, but Rachel doesn't let her speak. "Do you regret marrying Carl?"

"This isn't about me, Rachel," she says, attempting to get out of answering.

"I know that," Rachel states, "But this will help me. You've tried to help me in the past and you've never been able to. Please answer the question," she begs. "Do you regret marrying Carl?"

"No, I don't," Emma responds, sounding like she is answering against her better judgment, "I love him."

"And do you enjoy making love with him?" Rachel realizes that she's probably crossed a line and is surprised when Ms. Pillsbury answers.

"Yes," she says, her eyes closed.

Emma seems to realize that this conversation is entirely inappropriate. She turns red and starts digging through her drawers.

"Even though you were in love with Mr. Schue for so long?"

"That wasn't love," Emma proclaims before slapping a hand over her mouth and halting her movements.

Rachel nods in complete understanding. "That's how I feel about Jesse, Ms. Pillsbury. I know Mr. Schue will want Finn and I back together, and the glee club will try to kick me out. Please don't tell him."

"I think you've made your point, Rachel. Take these pamphlets. Your dads are waiting outside."

VI.

"Was your meeting with Ms. Pillsbury helpful?" Hiram asks, noticing the pile of pamphlets Rachel is carrying when she meets up with them in the hall.

"Very," Rachel says with a smile. "Thank you for not being mad." She attempts to hug both of them at the same time.

They start walking out towards the parking lot. "Your dad and I had some time to talk about this too, Rachel," Leroy says. "We realize that it might not be easy to talk to two guys about these sort of things. We just don't like to feel that you're keeping things from us."

She looks down at her feet before asking the question that she's dreading the answer to. "What does this mean for Jesse's visit this weekend? Can he still come?"

Neither of her dads answers her, so she looks up to see what has caught their attention.

It's immediately obvious. Shelby Corcoran is standing by her car.

_**Things get moving from here on out. It's the beginning of the end! **_


	24. Chapter 24

_**This chapter is shorter but I love it. Let me know what you think! Thank you for all your amazing reviews so far! **_

I.

He calls her a bitch and, for a minute, she thinks that there is a good chance that he's going to slap her. He's shaking with rage and every second word that comes out of his mouth is a curse. Yet, all she can think of while she smirks at him is that as fucked up as it sounds, she wishes that all of this hate, all of this anger, actually had something to do with her.

It's never about her.

Rachel's obviously told him about the Dean's call to her father. Meg has worked in the admissions office for years; it's not much of a stretch. She had expected him to figure it out, expected this tirade, what she hadn't expected was that the call she had placed her vindictive hopes on would turn out to be as big of a non-event as it was.

How could she have imagined that the girl who appeared so damn wholesome in her tights and sweater would have the most liberal parents in middle of nowhere, Ohio?

Back in the present moment, he's this close to saying that he wants nothing more to do with her, but they both know that that statement has no meaning unless he's willing to leave the group.

Because the Coppertones have always been incestuous. Drinking games and hooking up are as much a part of rehearsals as the actual singing, sometimes even more so. Sure, that changes every once in a while when someone decides to grow a conscience, but this was college, relationships never lasted and temptation was always exaggerated.

If she had thought that Jesse St. James was capable of growing a conscience, she would have never let him into the group. It's that simple. She remembers his audition vividly. He had strolled in casually, belted out _Here I Go Again_, then run a hand through his hair while he blatantly checked her out. She had been sold hook, line and sinker.

Months later, on a night when he leaves her bed without a word or the kiss goodbye that she has begun to crave, it occurs to her for the first time that even then, in that audition, he had been playing her.

But by that point, she's too far-gone. She's always told everyone around her that she's not a relationship girl, and she knows he's definitely not a relationship guy. Secretly, she just wants them to be not in a relationship, together. So she invites him to her parent's house Thanksgiving weekend for wine, a hot tub, and three days of complete and uninterrupted her. She's not completely surprised, but is 100% hurt when he declines without any semblance of a good explanation.

And, as it turns out, he is a relationship guy. Just not with her. To add insult to injury, it's long distance and Rachel is sixteen, short and flat, with a nose like Streisand. Meg had watched, infuriated, during Alex's party as Jesse had unwrapped his scarf from around Rachel's neck and trailed his fingers down her chest and across her breast, a more intimate gesture than he had ever attempted with Meg, even as they writhed together naked behind close doors.

She had conducted an amazingly simple investigation about Rachel after that. Writing her accusations in her letter to the Dean and then hearing Allie's subsequent phone conversations to confirm them had made her livid. She had never seen Jesse's dorm room and he had never spent the night at her place, yet, Rachel had gotten three uninterrupted nights with him in his twin bed.

She was determined to regain face among the Coppertones, particularly after Rachel's passive-aggressive little tiff at the party. She had made headway with John, inviting him over to practice, then going down on him within fifteen minutes of them being in her room. She knew Lexi was going to kill her, she had been waiting for John to break up with his girlfriend forever, but it was necessary, especially now that the Dean's intervention had been a colossal failure.

She was going to hit Jesse St. James in the one place where it would hurt him: his talent.

II.

On Tuesday afternoon, Rachel lies back on her bed, waiting for something, anything, to break the silence.

Shelby had just stood there, not speaking, holding a box with books, CDs, and a bubblegum pink bear that her dads had recognized but Rachel hadn't.

Rachel had tried to sputter through an explanation about Carmel and Vocal Adrenaline and had looked to Shelby for support, but her mother was looking off to the side, as if the conversation didn't concern her at all.

Seeing Shelby's attitude, the lies had died on Rachel's tongue. One word, however, formed in her mind: _Coward_.

Her dads had shouted at Shelby that she would be hearing from their lawyers and had whisked Rachel by the shoulders over to their own car, pushing her into the backseat, making her feel like the child she was.

Things hadn't gotten ugly, though, until the car ride home.

"How long Rachel?" Leroy is yelling at her, his words reverberating off the roof of the car. Hiram is telling him to calm down, trying to pacify him while driving with one hand.

"Last year. But dad, daddy, you don't understand. She teaches at Carmel. She coaches Vocal Adrenaline. We were bound to… "

"Last year?" Leroy is furious. "You've been keeping her from us for a year?"

As much as she is worried about Leroy's temper, it is Hiram that ultimately makes the connection, realizing the crux of what she has been trying to keep from them this whole time.

"She coaches Vocal Adrenaline?" he asks in his even tone.

Rachel nods vigorously into the rear-view mirror, but Hiram's not done.

"How does Jesse fit into this timeline?"

Rachel feels her heart drop to her knees.

It's a good thing that Leroy is not driving because he whips around to face her, understanding immediately what Hiram means by his question; Jesse's transfer to McKinley last year suddenly making complete sense.

Rachel discerns that lying won't help her anymore. "She told him to get to know me, but it's different now," she defends, "He loves me. It has nothing to do with her anymore."

Leroy exchanges a look with Hiram, both of them thinking the same thing. Shelby had deliberately gone against their contract, had employed a boy to seduce their daughter into approaching Shelby and keeping secrets from them. This same boy had again seduced their daughter into spending the weekend in his bed.

Later that night, after the house is quiet and her dads have gone to bed, Rachel realizes that her efforts at lying about Shelby would have been in vain. The bear had already done them in.

One of her dads must have gone back to get her car and the box that Shelby had, apparently, left behind because it was there, sitting on the dining room table when she was on her way to the kitchen. She looks through it, seeing beneath the CDs and the books mementos of her birth that were missing from her dads' shrine to her in the basement: a few pictures, a hospital bracelet, and the bear that bore her height, weight, name and date of birth on the bottom of its right leg, the words 'Thank-you from the bottom of our hearts,' on its left.

After they arrive at home, none of them speak, which absolutely never happens in the Berry household. She's waiting for them to give her a cue: punish her, mention Jesse, take away her privileges, say something, but they don't even look at her.

She retreats to her room to call Jesse, thinking that they will eventually come to find her when they want to talk.

She had fallen asleep early, after explaining through her tears to Jesse what had happened. When she had woken up some time after midnight, starving, he had still been on the line, listening to her sleep as he tried to finish his homework.

They both know that something bad is coming, they just wish they knew what it was. He assures her that he's still coming on Friday, regardless of what her dads say. He'll apologize to them, and worst case scenario, if her dads keep them apart they will find some way to see each other.

That was yesterday.

She wakes again at six in the morning, when her exercise alarm goes off, but she silences it and decides in that moment that she's not going anywhere today.

She knows things are bad when no one comes and gets her to make her go to school. She's had a perfect attendance record, save for her visit to NYU, since she was six years old. All three of the have always taken pride in it.

Both her dads seem to have skipped work too. She can hear them walking down the stairs, moving pots and pans in the kitchen.

Around nine, she sees a white sedan drive up to the house, and a guy with a briefcase and a suit that screams lawyer gets out. After that, it seems like her dads are camped out in their study in some sort of strategy meeting.

She catches Leroy's eye when she goes to the kitchen to make breakfast and he is exiting the downstairs bathroom. He says 'Good morning' back to her, but makes no mention of the fact that its 9:30am on a Tuesday and she's missing school. At that moment, her phone beeps, signaling that she has a text. She looks up, and she knows that he knows that it's from Jesse. He bows his head and sighs, going back into the study without saying anything further.

She spends her entire day lying on her bed, waiting for something to happen.

Jesse has been extra attentive all day, calling and texting in-between and sometimes during his classes. He's just as anxious as she is, and he wants to call her dads directly and apologize, but she tells him to wait. She knows her dads, and though this is unfamiliar territory, she thinks it is better that they wait for them to approach her.

"Let me know if that changes," he says, trying not to second-guess her judgment.

III.

Kurt walks into her room around five, and she's surprised that it is after school already. She has no idea where the day went.

"Did my dads let you in?" Her voice is hoarse from not speaking much and crying all day, something she's not used to.

"Yeah. What's going on downstairs? It looks like a meeting of the Security Council down there."

In response, fat tears slide down Rachel's cheeks, "I think I broke my family."

Kurt nods, rubs a consoling hand on her shoulder. "Your dads' confrontation with Ms. Corcoran was all over school this morning. I think Jacob was standing behind you guys with a tape recorder."

Even through her pain, Rachel laugh's at Jacob's audacity.

"You didn't look like you were talking to me yesterday," Rachel snipes at him, "You ignored me when I walked into glee."

"Finn was pissed at me for going on a date with Blaine and especially for setting you up with Malcolm." He winces, and then continues. "I had to swear to him that it wasn't Jesse-gate II for him to not make a big deal out of it. But he still made me choose."

"Choose?" she interrupts.

"Between you and him. Apparently, I can't be friends with you and still be loyal to him. I called bull-shit, but my dad thinks that with the wedding and," Kurt starts using a sarcastic tone, "The merging of our two families, it's a good idea for me to be on Finn's side right now. Carol might have helped you, but you're not exactly in her good books after re-configuring her wedding."

Rachel laughs softly. She knew that one way or another that was going to bite her in the butt.

"So what are you doing here?"

"Ms. Holiday taught our math class today. I bring you your take home quiz on her orders. It also gave me a good excuse to come over here and see how you were doing." He tries to tilt her head up so he can look at her face, "You look like you could use a friend."

Rachel snorts. "Don't pity me Kurt. I'm fine. Go home to Finn. I'm used to not having anyone around."

"I'm fine," she repeats.

"Yeah," Kurt replies, taking in her tears, her NYU sweatshirt, and her sweatpants "Because you look fine."

Her phone starts ringing, but she lets it go to voicemail. It's obviously Jesse because she gets three text messages in rapid succession.

"Aren't you going to get those?" Kurt is suspiciously gesturing to the phone that she has clutched tightly in her fist. Ever since Santana, she hasn't taken any chances with what she has come to think of as her lifeline.

"Later."

"Is it Ms. Corcoran?"

Rachel shakes her head, but does not want to get into how Shelby hasn't tried to contact her to find out what happened or how she is.

_Coward_, she thinks again. She can't help but think it, even though she really doesn't want to. There's a part of her that wants someone to blame for all of this. She's trying very hard not to let that person be her boyfriend.

Because, after yesterday, there is a teeny part of her that hates him a little for bringing Shelby into her life and causing all this drama. Hates him for getting her to admit that it was her biggest dream to get to meet Shelby, even if she didn't know it was Shelby at the time.

Prior to this, Jesse was worth everything Shelby had done. But having Shelby in her life is not worth her dads, or the relationship she has with them.

She's not sure if even Jesse is worth that.

Jesse can read her mind, she thinks, can see where it is going. Underneath every text message and call today, he has still been begging for her forgiveness. He knows, because he knows her, that this new development with Shelby has reopened patched up wounds.

He calls again, and she lets the phone ring for a couple of seconds, Kurt's stare boring into her the whole time.

She answers.

"I love you," she states without any sort of prompt, hoping that he can understand the depth of her words, trying to convey to him that everything is okay, "But Kurt's here and I'm talking to him. I'll call you later."

He mumbles something about going to practice and yelling at Meg, then she gets off the phone.

Kurt raises his eyebrow at her, the question obvious.

"Jesse," she says, covering her face with her hands and starting her tears anew.


	25. Chapter 25

I.

"You and Jesse? Still?" Kurt asks, disappointed in himself that he had been so surprised by Rachel's revelation. Really, who else could it possibly have been?

Rachel only nods her head, wipes her tears from her eyes with the backs of her hands before facing him.

Kurt senses that she won't say much else without being prompted. "How long?"

"He decided to go to NYU instead of UCLA," Rachel answers, "We met up when I visited."

"So that's why you broke up with Finn so suddenly," Kurt says, stating the obvious.

Rachel nods again, thankful that she can finally share this with someone, even if there will be consequences later.

"But he egged you! He betrayed you!" Kurt exclaims all of a sudden, as if Rachel wasn't already aware, "That would be like me dating Karofsky!"

Rachel frowns. She had hoped that this conversation would go in a more positive direction.

"I hurt him too, Kurt," she admits softly, "It's more complicated than that."

"You're in love with him?"

"I can't remember a time when I wasn't," she confesses, looking down at her bedspread instead of at him.

Kurt hesitates then reaches over for a tissue from her nightstand, handing it to her because he senses that she will need it.

"What's different this time?" Kurt asks, trying not to sound too negative, "How can you be sure that he won't be an asshole to you again?"

"He loves me, Kurt. I know he won't hurt me again." Rachel is aware that her flimsy explanation is failing to convince him.

"That makes no sense." Kurt sighs, shaking his head. "You need to start thinking logically about this."

Rachel almost smiles. "This isn't about logic, Kurt." She exhales loudly. "I was hoping you would understand, especially with Blaine. I just … I can feel it."

Rachel actually smiles then, knowing that was the lamest phrasing she could have ever come up with.

"You may need to do a little less _feeling_," Kurt states lewdly, glancing her up and down, "And start thinking."

Rachel looks away from him, disappointed. He picks up on the fact that he has upset her, tries to make it better.

"I'm your friend, Rachel," he starts, moving to put his arm around her, "I'm supposed to have your best interest at heart."

"I appreciate it," Rachel says unconvincingly, shifting slightly out of his reach. "It's not like I haven't thought about everything you just said."

There is silence for a couple of minutes. "Screw it," Kurt utters without warning, "Prove me wrong."

Rachel looks at him with a questioning look in her eyes and the barest hint of a smile.

"Blaine thinks that Jessica Simpson is actually a talented designer," Kurt scoffs, "If we can get past that, you and Jesse should be a piece of cake."

II.

Rachel walks Kurt out and then heads into the kitchen to scrounge up something for dinner. When she goes to heat up some pasta in the microwave, she realizes that it has been more than 24-hours since her dads have spoken to her.

She quietly walks to the door of their study, pauses when she hears them talking softly to one another. She hopes she is being inconspicuous, but she is not there more than fifteen seconds before she hears Leroy's voice calling her into the room.

They have set up a sort of conference table using Leroy's desk, adding additional chairs from the dining room for the various lawyers that have come into the house throughout the day. Right now, though, it is just the two of them, sitting at one end of the table. She sits at the other end.

Each of them seems to be waiting for one of the others to speak. Hiram, the most bothered by awkward silence, is the one that finally starts talking.

"You've only been sixteen for a month, Rachel. And in that month, you've started driving, you've broken up with your boyfriend, gotten a new one, gotten a job, gone to college and we've had more drama in this house than ever before. You've always been such an easy kid…"

Leroy jumps in, gets to the point. "When you were born, we made a decision that we would keep Shelby out of your life until you were old enough to make good decisions. Shelby was so young and reckless when we had you. She was on a bus to New York a week after you were born. We didn't think she would be a good influence on your life and, honestly, we were right. That she would get Jesse to coerce you into meeting her and then adopt your friend's baby on the spot is absolutely deplorable."

Rachel's plan was to let them finish talking but they seem to be waiting for a response from her.

"I agree with you," she sniffs, tears sneaking up on her again. "I don't want anything more to do with her. I just … I wanted to meet her. I wanted to know what she was like, something about her. I was hoping she was an amazing person, that maybe we could talk about boys and girly stuff. I guess I was hoping that she was just a little bit like Lorelai Gilmore."

Leroy actually laughs. "Shelby is nothing like Lorelai Gilmore."

Hiram tries to get them back on track. "We understand wanting to know about her, Rachel. But you never asked us, never said anything to us about meeting her. We would have told you everything about her if you had asked."

"I know," she says, because she knows that they would have. She's wondering now why she hadn't approached them in the first place. "I didn't want to hurt your feelings. I love you guys. Both of you are my parents, but…" she bites her lip, "I guess I was curious," she finishes softly.

"We love you too," Hiram is quick to reassure her, "In case you were wondering. I think we've all been in a bit of a daze for the past two days. We were just shocked when Shelby showed up at your car."

She feels a shift in the conversation and relaxes a little bit. "I was too. I had no idea that she would show up at school. She didn't even say anything when you guys saw her. She's a coward."

"She is," Leroy readily agrees. "We can't believe that she would have Jesse transfer schools to get to you."

Rachel nods. At their prompting, she tells them the entire story from the cassette, their first meeting, how things ended at Regionals, Shelby's phone call to Jesse and their subsequent dinner. Leroy makes notes, asks her to specify dates and the exact language of their conversations, if possible.

"What happens now?" Rachel asks when she's finished, fingers drumming idly on the table to mask her anxiety.

"Well, your father and I have spoken with a bunch of other lawyers but we don't feel comfortable holding Shelby financially accountable for the contract. She has an infant, she doesn't make that much from her teaching or from all of Vocal Adrenaline's perks, and," Leroy looks to Hiram, "It's not about the money." He pauses. "But we are going to ask her to stay away from you. You will have to be the one to initiate contact with her, whenever we decide as a family that we are ready for that. If she does not respect that, we will take her to court," Leroy promises.

"She hasn't tried to contact me," she assures them, looking them both in the eye to let them know that she is telling the truth. Leroy looks to Hiram again, "That's good, Rachel. We actually haven't spoken to her or her lawyer yet, but it is good to know that she's being smart."

Rachel's last hope that Shelby wasn't contacting her because she feared her dads dies in her chest, but they aren't quite finished killing her spirit. There is still the subject of Jesse to discuss.

Hiram takes over. "Shelby aside, Rachel, your father and I are concerned that you've become this different person all of a sudden. You're lying to us, you're lying to your friends, and it seems like the common thread to all of this is Jesse."

"Dad, daddy, please don't blame Jesse for this," she pleads, "He doesn't even speak to Shelby anymore. It was my decision to get back into contact with her, not his."

"I hate feeling like I can't trust my own daughter when she is around this boy," Leroy responds tersely, completely disregarding Rachel's previous statement.

Rachel looks to Hiram, usually her white knight, for support, but it looks like he agrees with Leroy.

Something inside Rachel snaps, and before she knows it, she is standing, yelling at them. "I have never told you everything! I don't tell you about how people throw slushies at me every single day at school or about how they tell me that you should sell me back to where I came from, or they make fun of my clothes or my body. Mr. Schuester doesn't give me the attention that my talent deserves and he puts me to sway in back when he wants to punish me."

Rachel's voice gets more choked up with emotion as her rant continues. She has to stop and regroup, wanting to get out everything she needs to say. She's finally telling her dads what she's tried to keep from them for years, and it feels oddly liberating. She wants to make full use of the opportunity.

"You guys have no idea what my life is like because I've tried to hide it from you. I hate the person I have to be at school. I even tried dating the quarterback to fit in more, to become less of an outsider. But I wasn't happy, and you could see that. You love me for who I am, but no one else does."

She sits back down in her chair, anger replaced by the need to convince them. She finds herself having to explain her relationship with Jesse for the second time that evening.

"I know you think that we're too young and we're moving too fast, but Jesse does love me. I don't care how we got together anymore. I just know that he is the only other person in the world besides you two that I feel like myself with."

"Please don't take that away from me."

III.

Jesse curses when he sees the dinner invitation in his email. He had been sure that his day could not get any worse.

It was obvious that Rachel somewhat blamed him for the whole situation with her dads, and he wouldn't know where he stood with her until her dads made it clear where _they_ stood. For the second time, he felt like a third party (well, parties) held the control in his and Rachel's relationship. He couldn't live his life like this; not anymore. After everything they had been through, he was still paying for his mistakes with Shelby; still perpetually waiting for things between them to end.

He and Rachel had moved too fast. He understood that now. They had jumped from anger to forgiveness too easily, but it was clear to him that, despite her words, she hadn't truly forgiven him for everything that had happened last year. He was beginning to think that she never would.

He had taken his frustration out on Meg, calling her a bitch and reaming her out for speaking to the Dean of Admissions about Rachel, possibly derailing her chances of getting into NYU. His anger at Meg was somewhat displaced. He had always known that Leroy and Hiram wouldn't overreact about Rachel having sex. He had seen his fair share of freaked out parents before and Rachel's dads had always been cool, even when they had come home without warning to find Rachel sitting on top of the island with him between her legs and his hand under her skirt.

Her dads were easygoing, but they hated lying, something their daughter had inherited. Even if Rachel's weekend with him hadn't in itself gotten her into trouble, Jesse knew that Hiram and Leroy saw it as one more thing that she had been lying to them about, especially now that the whole Shelby thing was in the open. And since anything having to do with Shelby now made Jesse's blood boil, Meg had experienced the full extent of his wrath.

Yet, yelling at her had made him feel only marginally better. It had taken him a while to realize that it was because nothing was resolved with Rachel, and he was beginning to resent that she was letting something come between them again.

Because as much as Rachel complains about not having friends, she has her dads and now Kurt, occasionally the glee club, and, if necessary, as much as it kills him to admit it, she could have Finn. He has never really had his parents, he no longer had Vocal Adrenaline or even Shelby in his life, hardly anyone knew he was in New York, and aside from John, he has no one close to him. She is literally all he has.

Which is why the timing of this email from his father is so ironic.

He meets Vincent downtown, in the restaurant adjacent to the Plaza hotel. When he gets to the table and sits down, the waiter immediately puts a plate of filet mignon in front of him along with a gin and tonic, even though he is only eighteen. His first thought is of Rachel. The last couple of times he was in a restaurant he was with her, and he never orders meat when she's around, even though she says she doesn't mind him doing so.

He takes a sip of the gin and tonic, glad for its comforting effect. His father praises his grades in the math classes he took last semester. Jesse had sent him his report card a couple of weeks ago as per their tuition agreement. Vincent expresses his surprise that Jesse is taking his Economics major seriously and Jesse doesn't bother to correct him. He has always been a gifted student, sure, but he himself is surprised that he can pull off an A in Math with minimal effort.

"Do you already have job plans for the summer?" Vincent asks, not glancing up from his steak as he cuts it.

Jesse hesitates. He hasn't given too much thought to specifics, but he had assumed that he was going back to Ohio for the summer to be with Rachel. If he knows his father, though, this question, despite appearances, is not polite or conversational.

"Not really," he answers vaguely, taking another sip of his drink.

"You have an internship in the finance department of a major corporation in Abu Dhabi. David Runyon is opening up a new office there. It will be quite the opportunity for someone just getting out of their first year of college."

"You never said that you would be picking my jobs too," Jesse insists, the annoyance evident in his tone.

"You just said that you didn't have any plans," Vincent counters, his voice cool, but Jesse can detect the irritation that lingers just under the surface.

"It's January!" Jesse roars in disbelief. "No one has summer plans yet!"

The maître d comes over to their table because Jesse's raised voice is disturbing nearby patrons.

Vincent does not take lightly to being embarrassed. "Keep your voice down," he hisses, while raising his wine glass to his lips to mask it.

Jesse thinks that the time for being vague and cautious is over. "I'm going back to Ohio for the summer."

Vincent looks genuinely taken aback. He puts down his knife and fork, wipes his hands on the napkin in his lap.

He speaks slowly and pointedly. "Your mother said that you did not come home for either Thanksgiving or Christmas even though we know your dorm is closed for the winter break. But yet you want to go back to Ohio for the entire summer and for a random weekend in January. Do you care to explain yourself? I seem to recall that last summer the whole reason for going to NYU was to get the hell away from Ohio and," Vincent pauses, smiles snidely against the rim of his glass, "Make something of yourself."

His trip to Ohio this weekend was bound to come up at some point. He had used Vincent's black American Express card to book the ticket, and had anticipated his phone call the moment he saw the confirmation email.

Jesse swallows. He hates being vulnerable in front of his father, ever since he had lost him at the racetrack when he was five and Vincent had yelled at him for crying and alerting the security staff, so that they had to use the intercom system to announce to everyone that Vincent needed to come get his son.

"My girlfriend still lives there," Jesse states evenly.

Vincent chuckles. "Girlfriend? Really now? You expect me to believe that after all the fucking around that you've done? Come on, Jesse. The servants talk. The gardener even has physical evidence of your indiscretions." Vincent's laugh gets louder, almost with, if Jesse had to place it, reluctant pride.

Jesse shrugs his shoulders, a gesture he knows that Vincent hates. "It's true."

Vincent decides to play along. "She goes to UOhio?"

Jesse's hand clenches around his tumbler, expecting his father's ridicule. "She's still in high school." He looks up. "She'll be coming to NYU next year."

"High school?" Vincent asks in disbelief. "Jesse, leave this girl alone. Do you honestly think this is going to work out? You're almost 19 years old and you've never been able to keep your dick in your pants. None of the St. James men are built that way. Fuck, no man is built that way. There are plenty of women in New York, don't corrupt this girl any further. I don't want to have to clean up your mess."

"It's not like that." Jesse is growing more agitated, but the last thing he wants to do is to explain Rachel to his dad.

"What?" Vincent mocks quietly, "You think this is love? You think she won't figure out who you are?"

Jesse looks away and his father assumes that he has the answer to his question.

Vincent laughs heartily, downs the rest of his glass of wine. "Don't be a fool, son," he says with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Think about your future. You're going to screw that relationship up soon enough anyway. I'm telling David to expect you this summer."

Jesse's had enough. He braces his hands on the table and gets up from his chair, signals the waiter to bring him his coat.

"Jesse," his father says in a warning tone. It's the tone that Jesse has never been able to ignore, no matter how much he tells himself that he's now an adult and can stand up to his father. Reluctantly, he turns back to look at the older man.

"If you're not in Abu Dhabi this summer, don't bother going home."

_**This chapter took so long to write! I cut out Rachel and Jesse's confrontation from this chapter for length so look for that soon! **_


	26. Chapter 26

_**This chapter had a bit of happy, a bit of angst, and a cliffhanger. **_

I.

Her hand reaches into her pocket automatically as she climbs the stairs, her mind already formulating how she's going to tell him that her dads are against them. Thousands of movie references and classic lines are swimming in her head: True love conquers all; Frankly my dear, I don't give a damn; You had me at Hello (extra points for that one). There are thousands of them.

He doesn't answer.

It takes about twenty minutes before he responds by text message.

_Dinner with my dad_.

Rachel's jaw literally drops when she reads the message, her anger at her own dads immediately forgotten. She's surprised that this is the first time she's hearing about this dinner and she realizes just how distant she and Jesse have been in the past couple of days. He has constantly been checking up on her, but she hasn't really asked about him.

She hesitates, her fingers absently brushing over the keys of her phone, rejecting _Call me later?_ because it sounds too needy. She's not trying to make it all about her.

She's not sure where this impulse to tiptoe around him came from, but she can feel some sort of tension between them, even through his short text message. She finally responds with a frown face, and an _I love you_ and she knows (and she's sure he knows) that it's a cop out.

She waits for his response, forcing herself to remember every word that she and her dads just exchanged so that she can tell him the whole story. She's amazingly proud of the way that she finally told her dads the truth and defended her relationship with Jesse, and she wants to share that with him.

She wants to share everything with him.

She falls asleep with her phone next to her on her pillow, ready and willing to be woken up at a moment's notice. But he doesn't call. He doesn't text, either.

Her alarm goes off at 6am as usual on Wednesday morning and she doesn't think twice about waking _him_ up.

"Hey," she tries. It seems almost impossible to keep her anger in check at this point; to not jump to conclusions as to why he hasn't called her.

"Hey," he responds.

He sounds sleepy but not surprised to hear from her, even at this ungodly hour.

There is awkward silence between them for a couple of seconds. She's never felt that with him before and she can't stand it. It scares her.

"My dads think you're a bad influence on me," she ultimately says, in as light a tone as she can manage.

"My dad won't let me come home again after May," he responds quietly.

If this were a competition for which of them has the worse news, he would definitely win.

"What?"

In an almost detached tone, he gives her the run down of the conversation with his dad last night. She can't fathom not seeing him for what would amount to a year and a half. She's trying to decide if she's outraged, shocked, or just plain mad.

She's thinking through feasible alternatives (he could rent an apartment in Lima, convince his uncle to move back to Ohio so he could stay in his apartment) and some not so feasible ones (they could get married, he could stay with some of his old friends) so she almost misses what he says next.

"I guess we have our answer, then."

"What answer?" she asks, completely lost; worried by his tone.

"Whether or not we could make it." His response is so quiet, so emotionless, that she swears that she imagines it.

Her body's reaction to his words isn't imagined, though. She feels the same pain rise in her chest that she felt the night that he left her on the quad to walk home without him, the same pain as when he broke an egg on her head and left with the rest of his team, not looking back once.

He had sworn to her that he would never hurt her again.

She shakes her head into the phone, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Why are you acting like this?" she sniffles. She tries hard not to sound as distressed as she is.

"I'm not Finn."

She feels like screaming at him. They've been through this. She knows that he's not Finn. She's thankful for it.

"I know that," she states quietly. She needs to see where he is taking this. She honestly doesn't understand where this is coming from.

"Do you?" He doesn't sound snarky, just quizzical. "If you're angry with me, Rachel, I need you to tell me. You don't get to write our relationship according to how you want it. I don't need you to protect me. We're equals remember?"

"I'm angry with you?" she says, voice coming out in a harsh whisper. "I'm not the one who's breaking up with me right now." She pauses. "For no reason," she adds for good measure.

He sighs loudly and she hates that she betrays herself to picture him running a hand through his hair.

"You still hate me for everything that happened with Shelby." It is the absolute surety with which he says his words which makes her realize that he's right. She would have never admitted it otherwise. Not out loud. Every comeback about how she has just defended him to her dads, how she stood up for their relationship dies on her tongue. He's right.

Even in this moment, she's amazed and grateful that he knows her that well. That he's able to put into such simple words the weight that has taken residence at the bottom of her stomach for the last couple of days. The weight that she had pretended didn't exist for the last two weeks.

"I don't want to."

He's made love to her with his fingers and his mouth, seen parts of her that no one else has seen, but it is that simple confession that lays her completely bare to him.

Finally.

And once she's said it, she can't stop, the words leaving her mouth of their own accord. She tells him how she hates that he knew who Shelby was and he still let her into her life. He knew what Vocal Adrenaline was planning on doing and he still went through with it. He built her up and then broke her all the way down. How do you forgive someone for that?

He's quiet as he listens to her, knowing that this was what he was after this whole time. Hearing her so broken, though, makes him regret it. Because, really, how do you forgive someone for that? It's always going to be present; the foundation of their relationship.

She hears Skype ringing on her computer, even as he is still with her on the phone.

He needs to see her face. Sometimes that's what makes it real for him that she is there, that she's in this too.

She pads over to her desk and answers the call, hanging up her phone in one motion.

"My parents have never seen me perform," he starts. "The look on Shelby's face when she heard you at Sectionals for the first time … I thought I was giving you your dream. I thought that I was giving you _my _dream. I never thought that she would hurt you like that…"

She looks away, still feeling raw and vulnerable.

She finds her confidence, looks him in the eye. "You don't get to do this either. You don't get to walk away when things get hard and blame it on me." She swallows. She's about to call him on all his holier-than-thou bullshit. "You need to stop believing that you're going to hurt me, that you don't deserve me, no matter what your dad or anyone else says. I know you love me. I know you won't cheat on me because you know how much it would devastate me. I _know_ it, and you need to believe it too."

She pauses again. "I choose you too. In spite of everything."

"I don't have anyone else but you." It's another quiet admission. She's never heard him speak like this before. She thinks she's broken him too.

"Then stop pushing me away!" It seems ridiculous that they are having this conversation when it's obvious that neither of them intends to go their separate ways.

He nods. "You too."

A short silence is broken when she laughs and he looks up, surprised by the sound. "I know you promised me epic romance, but I thought that meant roses and music and candles, not angst and heartbreak."

"We can still do all of that," he assures her.

"Does that mean you're coming on Friday?" she asks, though she already knows his answer.

"I need to hold you." It doesn't really answer her question, but she understands what he means. She feels the same way. They wound and bruise each other by definition. But there is the other side too: the comfort, love and intimacy. It's just as much a part of their drama.

They still have a ton of practical problems to work out with the restrictions of both their parents, not to mention the fact that they have just accused each other of emotionally sabotaging their relationship. So, honestly, she doesn't know what possesses her to say it, just that her body (or maybe it's her heart) has taken precedence over her mind.

"Bring condoms."

II.

The countdown to Jesse's visit begins. Things at home are better but still tense. She's not sure where her dads stand on Jesse, just that they know where she stands. They are eating meals as a family again and she makes a point to tell them on Wednesday morning that Jesse is still coming to visit her. She asks if dinner is still on for Friday night.

It is. Her dads are not going to miss the opportunity to confront Jesse. She just prays that she never has to choose between Jesse and her dads. She already knows her choice, but it just might kill her.

She comes home on Wednesday night after work to find both her dads at the dining table, bent over a large file. She looks over their shoulders and recognizes it as her official record from school. She knows for a fact that it has the incident report from every time she's been slushied, copies of the comments that have been made on her Myspace page, photographs of the pornographic images on the bathroom walls. It is an official record of everything about her that they've never seen.

She has always told Principal Figgins and everyone else at school that these events didn't bother her so that she could keep it from them. Somewhere along the way, she had started believing it.

They've already eaten so she heats up her dinner and sits with them at the table, answering their questions.

When she goes upstairs to start her homework, she leaves them sitting there, still sifting through each piece of paper.

III.

She's in biology class, the last period of the day, on Thursday afternoon. She's supposed to be making observations on the veins of her leaf, but she's actually texting Jesse under the table.

"Ms. Berry. What are you doing?" She jumps in her seat, keeps her hand under the table to hide her phone, and looks up.

It's Santana, putting on a fairly accurate representation of their teacher's Southern accent. Ms. Baker has apparently left the room.

Rachel rolls her eyes and finishes off the text message she was writing when she was so rudely interrupted. Santana grabs her notes, makes a show of copying them onto her own almost completed sheet.

"You look happy," she says almost accusatorily, "Sexting are we?"

Rachel is in a good mood so she decides to play along. "Jesse's coming home tomorrow," she whispers to Santana, leaning towards her.

Santana smirks at her. "So what's the plan? I want to hear all the filthy details."

Rachel looks confused. "Plan?"

Santana laughs. "You haven't seen him in weeks. You're not planning anything special?"

Rachel stops to consider. Santana, sensing her hesitation, laughs. "Good thing he's into you Berry, because you have no idea what guys want."

Rachel's desire to please Jesse outweighs the embarrassment Santana is dishing out. "What? You think I should dress up?"

She had never really considered it before. She had been in a relationship with Finn when she packed her suitcase for NYU and not in a million years would she have expected that anyone, much less Jesse, would have seen her childish underwear. She cringes when she thinks that she had spent the entire weekend in her pajamas or in her other, decidedly not sexy, clothes

"For starters," Santana says pointedly, answering her question. "Hasn't he had other girlfriends before?"

Rachel bites her lip, vividly remembering the short, tight dress that Meg wore to the party.

The bell rings and the other kids in the class start gathering their things to leave.

"You want to go to the mall?" Santana asks, still looking determinedly down at both their worksheets.

"Glee starts in 20 minutes."

"So we blow it off. Corrupting you will be more fun than rehearsing that stupid marriage song with the dumb lyrics."

They make a pit stop in the girls' locker room so that Santana can change out of her Cheerios uniform into jeans and a sweatshirt.

"I don't want to make it too easy for people to spot us together," she explains.

Rachel nods, but she's beginning to realize that Santana isn't quite as badass as she would have everyone else believe.

Santana drives them to the mall and Rachel turns on the radio to mask the silence. They both end up singing along to Shakira and Rachel laughs when Santana turns the volume all the way up so that the car is almost vibrating. Rachel had assumed that they were just going to buy lingerie and then go home, so she is surprised when they meander through the stores, many of which are empty at four in the afternoon. Santana actually seems to be enjoying her company.

Rachel feels guilty for not inviting Kurt because he would have loved "corrupting" her too, but she realizes that Santana is probably more of an expert in this particular area. Only afterward does the fact that neither of them knows that she is friends with the other enter her analysis. She hates that all of her relationships have to be in private.

They actually end up having fun and Rachel wonders why this can't be her normal life. Santana convinces her to get her first bikini wax and the cheerleader laughs at Rachel when she is absolutely terrified before she does it, and then after when she tries to act like it was no big deal. They get ice cream, look at boots and try on dresses that they both actually agree on in the sales section at Macys. Rachel is only a little bit remorseful that she's blown almost her entire week's paycheck on this outing.

Finally, they get to what brought them to the mall in the first place. There's a salesgirl watching them intently as they search through the racks and the whole atmosphere makes Rachel feel uncomfortable. She literally did not know that this store in the mall existed before Santana lead her here.

The first thing that Santana picks up and shows to her is a lacy bustier with garters. She shakes her head, unable to find the words for why she just can't wear that. "I can't."

Santana catches her wide-eyed expression. "We'll get this one for me. This," she says motioning to the cups of the bra, "Is why I got my boob job. Puck will love it."

Rachel turns her back and looks through another rack when she asks casually, "What's going on between you two anyway?"

"He'll come around," Santana responds quietly. "It always comes back to the two of us."

Rachel only nods, not wanting to disturb this newfound peace with Santana. She is about to ask a follow-up question when Santana holds up the lingerie version of a French maid's outfit. It's got lace where all the black is supposed to be, feather duster attached.

Rachel laughs, surprised that she actually likes it. "Maybe not this weekend. I'm going to be nervous enough as it is."

"Wait, you're a virgin?" Rachel nods her head, surprised that Santana had assumed otherwise. "We've done … other stuff but we've never actually had sex," she explains.

"Other stuff?" Santana teases, raising her eyebrows at Rachel's fumbling over the words.

"Admittedly, I've been the beneficiary of most of it." Rachel replies, cheeks red, "Until now."

Santana's about to make some sort of smart retort but she doesn't get it out because Rachel has spotted a light purple sheer and lace babydoll with what the label describes as peek-a-boo cups, and a matching bikini. It's the exact same shade as the tiny cape and nightgown she had donned the night she and Jesse had almost had sex last year.

She knows that he will appreciate the continuity.

She finds it in her size and holds it up for Santana to see. The other girl nods approvingly and Rachel immediately, without thinking, envelops her in a hug. "Thank you Santana!" She realizes what she has done and backs off immediately.

Santana is smiling, and it seems genuine. "Thank me later, Berry. I'm going to need all those filthy details."

IV.

Finn Hudson is a genuinely nice guy. He's not the brightest guy, but he does what he can. His mom taught him about karma so he's nice to everyone and good things normally happen to him. (She has a song about it; something about chameleons.)

He thinks that her wedding to Burt is proof of her theory. Although he was against Burt and his mom in the beginning, he has never seen his mom this happy. She deserves someone to take care of her. She's had a tough life and she's always made the best of it, always helped other people. There you have it: karma.

He sings the Karma Chameleon song on his way to the airport to pick up his grandmother who is flying in for the wedding. As he always does when he sings, he's thinking about Rachel. She had looked even prettier than usual this morning. She had worn a dress that he hadn't seen before and she had let her hair down. She had kept tugging at the strands throughout the day, winding them around her fingers and tucking them behind her ears.

He thinks of the song he plans to dedicate to her at the wedding and knows that all the extra hours rehearsing with Mr. Schue is going to pay off. He loves her _just the way she is_. He knows he's going to get her back. She's a sucker for a leading man singing to her.

He's helping his grandmother with her suitcase when he sees that dress out of the corner of his eye. He thinks his mind is playing tricks on him because he really does see Rachel everywhere, and she has no business being at the airport on a Friday afternoon. But he stops fussing with the too-short handle of his grandmother's carry-on so that he can watch, all the time hoping that it really is her.

It is her. He watches, confused, as her face searches for someone among the throng of people near the baggage claim. It occurs to him that she might be looking for him; that somehow she has found out that he was picking up his grandmother and she was there to tell him that she loved him; that she didn't want to be apart anymore. He smiles as he convinces himself and turns to his grandmother to tell her that he wants her to meet his girlfriend.

He leads her toward where Rachel stands but Finn hesitates when Rachel suddenly launches herself into the arms of a shorter guy with a black jacket and dark curls.

He watches, awestruck, as she runs her hand through Jesse's hair and slips her other hand under his jacket. Jesse lifts her and spins her around, kisses her on her cheek before ducking down to her lips and burying his nose in her hair.

He's distracted from watching them leave hand in hand because his grandmother asks what happened to make him stop in his tracks. She's still searching the people milling about for someone that could be her Finn's girlfriend. "Where is she?"

"Sorry, grandma," Finn says, looking down at his shoes, "That couldn't have been her."

_**Happy chapter next!**_


	27. Chapter 27

_**Sorry this update took so long! School got really busy and I had a death in my family **____**. My uncle's death sort of permeates this chapter. It's still happy St. Berry, but its got a dark tone. **_

I.

She throws herself into his arms and realizes a bit too late that he's carrying two roses.

He _would_ hand carry flowers all the way from New York.

Jesse chuckles when she frowns up at him apologetically, but he makes no move to rescue his gift. He thinks about pretending that he is angry, but the smell wafting up from the flowers is adding to the moment, making it even more perfect.

He's really here.

The need to feel his skin against hers overwhelms her, so she reaches up on her tiptoes and runs one hand through his hair and shoves the other under his jacket and shirt, tracing a heart on his lower back with her index finger. She hears and feels him sigh against her neck.

Her hand slips down his chest when he unexpectedly lifts her and spins her around, the flowers still trapped between them. He kisses her cheek and then moves to her lips. Then he's kissing the top of her head and whispering "Rachel" to her like it's his mantra.

She removes her hand from beneath his coat and searches for his, almost dragging him towards her car. He officially presents her with the crushed flowers and she beams at him when he whispers "Happy two week anniversary" in her ear.

He's managed to infiltrate all her thoughts and senses, so the romance of their reunion is temporarily overshadowed by the practicality of finding her car in the giant parking garage. He's never seen her car so he's no help, and he is silently laughing at her frustration until she recognizes her car fifteen minutes after they started looking.

He absent-mindedly heads towards the driver's seat and when he looks back at her she raises her eyebrow and gives him the smirk that she has (don't tell him) practiced for countless hours in the mirror.

"Going somewhere?" she teases, twirling the keys around her finger dramatically.

He does a double take, realizing his mistake but not willing to admit it. She unlocks the car with the remote in her hand and walks over to him, attempts to slide between where he is standing and the door so she can get into her car.

He moves quickly and presses her back against the car, trapping her. He kisses her slowly. There's no one in the immediate vicinity and so he takes his time, runs his hands all over her body, almost as if he's making sure that she's there.

He breaks away from their kiss and whispers "Sorry" against her lips and then again against her neck, then her ear. Then he repeats. She knows that he is apologizing for everything that he's put her through in the last week, but she hates that he feels the need to.

She's not about to object to his method, however.

"Jesse," she says unwillingly, "My dads are waiting."

It's true. They now have about half an hour to get back to her house for dinner and they still have to stop for the DVD rentals that her dads want to watch after.

Hiram and Leroy are giving her as little wiggle room as possible to be alone with him.

She's explaining this to him when he finally lets her get into the car and he has thrown his bags onto the back seat and is sitting across from her. She's adjusting her mirrors, plugging HOME into her GPS, and then reaches for the radio when she catches him staring at her.

"What?"

"You driving is so sexy."

She rolls her eyes as she backs out of the space, but she's smiling at him. She flips her hair for effect.

"Typical, horny male," she chides, shaking her head. She loves that they can go from serious to casual so easily.

In a split second, his hand is resting on her thigh and moving upwards, lifting her dress in the process. Her foot trembles against the brake and she grips the steering wheel tightly with both hands. They haven't even left the garage yet.

"Jesse." She means it as a stern warning, but it comes out more breathy than she intends. It's been too long since they were together.

"What were you saying, Rach?" He's pointedly looking towards the road, but she can see his smile in profile. He moves his hand from her thigh to her knee, and she covers it with her own once she gets comfortable on the road.

They stop at a random grocery store to pick out a DVD from the Redbox. She's weighing her options when he comes from behind her, searches for a title and immediately selects it.

"Leroy will appreciate the irony," he tells her knowingly, now holding a copy of Meet the Parents in his hand. She nods, kisses him on the cheek and then turns to find the candy aisle. She takes two steps when she realizes that he's not following her.

She looks behind her and he's selecting another DVD from the kiosk. She walks back towards him and rubs a hand down his back, the question implicit.

"Barbra's in the sequel," he explains, turning towards her, "For you and Hiram."

She might just marry him. The thought does cross her mind.

II.

She turns off the engine and they sit in the driveway for a while, bracing themselves for what's to come.

"Whatever happens," he starts.

She laughs quietly, cuts him off. "Nervous are we?" she attempts to tease him, but it falls short.

She's not comforted when he nods and takes in a deep breath.

She glances at the still-illuminated clock on her dashboard and then at the house, thanking God for her tinted windshield and the five minutes that they have left. She slides out of her seat and onto his, kneeling between his parted legs.

"I love you," she whispers to him, holding his face in her hands, "So whatever happens…" She leaves the rest of her thought unsaid.

"I love you too," he mirrors, "So whatever happens…"

Their lips meet and it's the signature to an unwritten contract.

His hand is tangled in the bottom of her dress, and he lets it go, tries to smooth it out. No need to give her dads any more reason to hate him.

She slides back onto her own seat and opens the door, stands on solid ground. He does the same before reaching onto the backseat to grab something out of his duffle.

"Cheesecake," he explains with a grin, holding the package gingerly. "Frozen and packaged by that bakery that I took you to. Think I'm trying too hard?"

"Yes," she giggles, "But they will appreciate the effort … and the cheesecake."

He reaches back into the bag and tosses a smaller box towards her. She smiles when she sees that it contains brownies.

"I think those are the ones that you described as orgasmic," he mocks, "And I'm not even sure you knew what that word meant at the time."

She blushes but maintains her composure. Slowly but surely she is learning. "Ha ha, very funny. Keep it up," she challenges him, "And you won't get any of my brownies. Vegans taste better, remember?"

"Don't say that to me when I'm about to face your dads," he groans, walking around to meet her, then grabbing her hand. "Come on. I think I just saw the curtain move. We have an audience, Ms. Berry."

III.

Dinner is a legit inquisition. Her dads' first questions are about Shelby, and Leroy has a notepad out, sometimes underlining things three times. Jesse agrees, somewhat reluctantly, to give a full statement on Monday morning so that Leroy can have it as evidence against Shelby if it ever becomes necessary.

"You should be aware that Shelby is under strict orders not to contact Rachel," Leroy advises him seriously. Jesse knows it's a challenge.

"I don't have any contact with her anymore," Jesse confirms robotically.

Rachel can't believe that the night is going this badly. Leroy has managed to turn dinner into a business meeting, and Hiram is uncharacteristically silent over his bowl of ratatouille. Her dads have never been one to hold grudges, but they seem to be making a champion effort tonight.

Jesse excuses himself to the bathroom when they pile the dishes in the sink, so Rachel tries to smooth things over. "Dad, daddy, please. I know you're angry, but he just flew here to see me. He's really trying. You used to like him. I'm the one you should be mad at, not him."

She doesn't realize she's crying until she feels the heavy tear drop onto her dress. She didn't plan on that particular dramatic effect, but it seems to crack their hardened hearts.

"He brought you cheesecake!" she exclaims, wiping at another tear on her cheek, "And Barbra!"

There's silence until Jesse reenters the room. He sees Rachel's red eyes and looks from her to her dads, assuming the worst.

She walks over to him and grabs his hand, squeezes it in reassurance. There is another silence until Hiram's loud belch breaks the tension in the room.

Jesse is surprised and almost jumps, but it's a "thing" in their family and both Rachel and Leroy laugh almost unconsciously, Rachel burying her head in Jesse's shoulder.

"I hate ratatouille," Hiram says, and Leroy chuckles. "Blame Julia Childs."

Hiram ignores the comment and continues. "I heard there was cheesecake."

Rachel nods and leads them all to the living room where she and Jesse had set the coffee table with the cheesecake and what looks like every vegan candy and snack food available to mankind.

"What Barbra movie did you get?" Leroy asks. He's had to sit through them all for his partner and daughter. He likes some more than others.

Jesse attempts to join the newly jovial mood. "Meet the Parents," he says, selecting what used to be his usual seat on the couch. "I thought it was fitting."

"Indeed," Leroy replies good-naturedly.

Things get better after that because they are all roaring with laughter during the two movies. There are some awkward moments, but Jesse has been to movie night at her house many times before and they all fall easily into old habits: passing bags of candy around, and mocking Rachel's Dirty Dancing obsession when she asks for her Jujubes.

At one point she looks around at the three men in her life and says a silent prayer that they will always be there for her. Jesse and Leroy are watching Barbra give sex advice, but Hiram catches her looking around, and, almost as if he reads her mind, he winks at her.

She ducks her head to hide the smile on her face and shifts closer to Jesse.

It's nearing midnight when the second movie ends, and it feels like the natural time for the night to come to a close.

She gets up from the couch and stretches, ready to drive Jesse home.

"I'll take him," Leroy says, leaving no room for arguments, while carrying the rest of the cheesecake to the kitchen.

Rachel and Jesse exchange a look. "Okay," she states loudly so that Leroy can hear her in the other room, "We'll just get his stuff out of my car and put it in yours."

They put Jesse's bags in the back of Leroy's car and then lean against it. "His bark is worse than his bite," Rachel soothes, not sounding like she quite believes what she is saying.

Leroy comes walking out of the house at that moment, and Rachel brazenly kisses Jesse on the lips before retreating inside.

Jesse hasn't felt like this much of a child in a long time.

IV.

When she gets to the kitchen, Hiram is loading the dishwasher. She starts pouring the ratatouille into a large Ziploc container.

"Toss it," he says with disdain, nose turned up at the pot. "Your father is the world's worse cook." He doesn't acknowledge the change in subject when he says, "He loves you."

It's obvious he's talking about Jesse. Rachel is momentarily surprised, but she nods, even though her daddy isn't looking at her.

"How can you tell?" She wants to know what it looks like from an objective perspective.

"Your father was in prime form tonight but Jesse was looking at you the whole time. He clearly thought the inquisition was worth it. He's smitten."

She smiles at the description. She's about to respond with her own feelings when Hiram interrupts her, "I won't stand in your way anymore." He tilts his head, reconsiders, and then smiles at her. "Within reason," he adds.

V.

"Why did you egg my daughter?"

Jesse sighs, the drive to his neighborhood seeming longer than ever. "I caved to peer pressure, Mr. Berry. I knew Rachel would never want anything to do with me after she found out about Shelby. It was easier to deliberately end our relationship than to have a conversation about all the lies I told her."

Leroy stops at a red light and Jesse looks out the window. "I know I don't deserve her," he says quietly and Leroy looks like he agrees, "But she's the best thing in my life, and I'm too selfish to let her go. I'm willing to abide by whatever rules you set out for us."

Jesse thinks that Leroy is considering how best to milk Jesse's offer. Instead, Leroy makes a hesitant demand. "Tell me about Rachel at school."

It takes a minute for Jesse to respond. He feels like he is betraying his girlfriend's confidence, but he can also hear Leroy's obvious worry for Rachel's well-being.

So, in the 20 minutes until he gets home, he tells Leroy about Rachel's experience from what he learned in his month at McKinley: how the rest of the glee club is jealous of her talent, how the cheerleaders hate her because she looks different, but is still attractive, and how she really has no true friends.

"I really let her down," Jesse confesses, ashamed, but speaking to Leroy is oddly liberating. "Things got better when I was there with her, but then I humiliated her. I think part of the reason she dated Finn was because she got treated better as the quarterback's girlfriend."

Jesse sees tears shining in Leroy's eyes so he looks away. He gives directions to his street and then his house and Leroy pulls into the driveway.

The house and lawns are pitch black. "My mom is probably already asleep," Jesse states, preempting Leroy's question. He gets out and grabs his bag, pauses by Leroy's window.

"Can I come and see Rachel tomorrow?"

Leroy nods. "Pancakes at 11."

_**Odd place to end it, but the next scene is important. Thanks for reading! Please review. **_


	28. Chapter 28

_**Chapter 28**_

_**This chapter is shorter, but I wanted to get something else out to you before I go into a busy period for the next week. I'm also going to put a shameless plug in for my story **__**Too Much**__**, which I think might become my new chapter story after this one is done. Please let me know if you are interested in me continuing it. I'm sort of obsessed with the Beth character in it right now. Your support makes writing worthwhile so thank you to everyone who has ever read and/or reviewed this story! Special thanks to my regular reviewers! I'm just now catching up on all the reviews. **_

_**Rachel at the end of this chapter breaks my heart. Been there, done that… **_

I.

She shivers with anticipation when she sees the black SUV parked almost ominously alongside the deserted path.

She holds her breath and lightly raps on the window of the backseat. He winds the glass down about an inch.

"Who goes there?" he asks dramatically

"Jesse," she warns. This isn't the time to play around. She's already jumping from foot to foot to keep herself warm. Normally, by this point, she would have been fine from her run, but she had walked to the park today because she didn't want to get herself sweaty before she got there.

The things she does for him.

He recognizes the no-nonsense tone in her voice and opens the door, dragging her inside. He wastes no time before positioning her on his lap, then attacks her lips while unzipping her jacket.

"Wait," she groans out.

He stops immediately, hands dropping from her chest to her hips, his forehead resting against her shoulder. She repositions herself so that she is straddling his lap and glances around. He's got the heat turned all the way up and blankets covering the cool leather, which is good because they're about to get naked in his backseat.

"Hi," she reminds him.

He grins guiltily, reaches up to tuck a lock of hair that escaped her ponytail behind her ear. "Hi."

She shifts her hips against him and looks at him with a smirk. "How are you this morning?"

"Feeling very awake for 7:15 on a Saturday," he responds cheekily, grinding against her for emphasis.

She smiles and draws him to her, restarts her movements. He relieves her of her jacket and is inching his hand under her shirt when she stops him. He groans in frustration, places his hands safely on her back.

"I have some ground rules for today," she states mischievously. Her tone catches his attention and he looks up at her, intrigued.

She maintains eye contact with him while she runs one finger under his shirt, down his chest, along the thin trail of hair that ends beneath his pants. She lifts the elastic waistband of his plaid pajama pants with her finger, but toys with it, refusing to go any further.

She glances down at what she's doing and then back to him, smiles secretively.

"The rule is that all _your _clothes come off…" She pauses, traces her finger along the front of the elastic waistband, "But all _my _clothes stay on."

She holds her breath and hopes that he doesn't put up too much of a fight. He's always been overly generous, and she wants this morning to be about him.

She is sure that he will more than make it up to her tonight.

He seems to understand what she's getting at, and is turned on by her attempt at dominance, but he's not willing to cede total control that easily.

His hand finds _that_ spot on her left thigh, even through her leggings, and begins to knead it gently. He chuckles at how her reaction emphasizes his next words: "I can work with clothes."

Thankfully, though, he does follow her ground rules. So, she doesn't protest too much when, after he regains the ability to form coherent sentences, he tries to talk her out of her clothes too.

II.

He makes sure that he is right on time for pancakes and she greets him at the door with a big smile. At first, he thinks that she is just overacting for her dads' benefit, but he quickly realizes that she is genuinely that happy to see him and doesn't want to hide it.

He feels the same way and they only left each other a few hours ago. Even though he's already said the words to her and wholeheartedly believes them, at that moment he realizes in an almost detached way that he's in love.

Which means that she must be too.

He kisses her on the cheek and she leads the way to the kitchen where her dads are sitting reading the paper at the table in the breakfast nook.

"I told them what a good cook you are," Rachel explains to him once she reaches the island, "So you and I are making the pancakes this morning."

He senses the significance of her statement. Pancake Saturday mornings every two weeks are a Berry family tradition. They've had them since Rachel was a baby and it was Hiram's main point of contention when Rachel had declared she was becoming vegan. She had bought a vegan cookbook and explained to him about egg substitutes and soymilk, and then everything had worked out fine.

Jesse has never been to one of these before. The official reason is because he used to have Vocal Adrenaline rehearsal on Saturdays, but he has always assumed that this was Rachel's special time with her parents who both work long hours during the week.

It was why he was so surprised when Leroy invited him to come this morning.

He greets her dads and everyone quickly agrees to banana chocolate chip pancakes. The tension from yesterday seems to have lifted and, according to Rachel, he probably has Hiram to thank for that.

Leroy, especially, is interested in how Jesse learned to cook and so he tells them the story of always being home alone and developing a crush on Giada de Laurentiis on the Food Network. Rachel rolls her eyes as he impresses her dads with the fact that he had started saving the money his parents left him for takeout and cooking whatever Giada made instead. He would leave the housekeepers lists of supplies to buy, mimicking the host's Italian pronunciations. He tells them that he is looking forward to having a kitchen in his apartment next year so that he can start cooking again.

Both of her dads leave the kitchen to take phone calls and Jesse walks from the stove over to where Rachel is standing slicing bananas. He slides his arms around her waist from behind and kisses her shoulder through her t-shirt.

"Think they suspect anything?"

She laughs softly and relaxes into him. "They weren't even awake when I got back. Plus, I run every Saturday morning. Nothing out of the ordinary."

"They're being too nice to me," he complains sarcastically, "It must be a trap." He rests his chin against the top of her head and breathes in the scent of her shampoo.

She doesn't respond, but they stay like that, Rachel feeding him slices of banana, until they both hear footsteps coming down the stairs.

They all finish with their pancakes and Hiram asks them what they have planned for the day. Jesse looks to Rachel who shoots him an apologetic glance.

"I'm dragging you to the mall with me," she says, trying to hide a smile, "I need silver strappy sandals to wear to the wedding tomorrow and Kurt will kill me if I don't have them."

Hiram chuckles in response. "That sounds like punishment. We've let her do her shopping on her own since she was twelve," he says, addressing Jesse.

"And tonight?" Leroy asks, interrupting them.

Jesse looks to Rachel again. In front of her dads, she is the designated spokesperson.

"We were going to go out, dad." Rachel says, emphasizing the word 'out.'

Leroy and Hiram look at each other. "We have a surprise for you two," Hiram finally says. He gets up and gets an envelope from where they usually ditch the mail at the end of the day.

"We have two tickets to Lady Gaga's concert in Akron tonight."

Rachel screams before Hiram can finish his sentence. "Tickets have been sold out for months! How did you?"

"Shelby got them for you," Leroy says seriously, "We think that might have been why she came looking for you this week. We tried to return them to her, but, anyway, they probably shouldn't go to waste."

His explanation puts a damper on Rachel's exuberant spirit.

"Are you a Gaga fan, Jesse?" Hiram asks, noticing, Jesse thinks, his tame reaction in comparison to Rachel's.

"She's a bit overdone, but she's okay," Jesse says, laughing at Rachel's annoyed expression.

"Blasphemer," she accuses.

"Pop princess," he shoots back.

"The concert starts at 8 and Rachel's curfew is at 12, so I want you on your way back here the minute the show ends," Leroy stresses, looking between the two teens. "Is that clear?" They both nod.

"You and I have a deal," Leroy reminds Jesse quietly.

"Yes, sir."

III.

He glances over at her as he drives and she's got the Gaga ticket envelope clutched tightly in her hand. She's shaking the leg she has crossed over the other, and he thinks it's cute.

"Excited?"

She looks over at him, gives him that smile. "You have no idea."

She reaches to turn the volume on the radio up then points ahead on the road. "Turn into that McDonalds."

He does as she asks because it's so sudden, but then he parks the car and looks at her like she's crazy. Rachel Berry does not eat McDonalds.

He watches in awe as she takes some money out of her purse and jumps out of the passenger side of the car without a word. He turns off the engine then follows her into the restaurant.

All his questions are answered when she walks up to Kurt and Blaine who are eating in a back corner. She hands them the envelope and the money, telling them that she needs their ticket stubs and a Born This Way baby tee when they return.

She glances back at him and gives him the sexiest wink he's ever seen in his life.

"Jesse this is Blaine. Blaine this is Jesse." Jesse reaches over to shake Blaine's hand and nods at Kurt. To his surprise, Kurt nods back.

"Are you going to stay and eat with us?" Blaine asks politely, looking at both of them. Kurt snorts.

Rachel ignores the snort and wrinkles her nose at the menu above the registers. She shakes her head. "Never."

Blaine laughs and Rachel tells them to call when they are leaving the concert so that they can meet up again. She leans over to hug Kurt. "Thank you."

"You're the one who's giving us Gaga tickets. We should be thanking you." Kurt looks like he's about to say something to Jesse but thinks better of it.

He finally seems to settle on "Have fun," while looking at Rachel meaningfully, almost disapprovingly.

"You too," Rachel replies, "Don't lose your ticket stubs and I need an extra small," she calls over her shoulder.

"Yes, diva."

"So…" Jesse begins, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel once they are both safely back in the car, "Where are we actually going?"

"You said your mom wasn't home."

He had mentioned to her that he thought his mom was on one of her weekend trips to Chicago. There had been no sign of her both times he left the house this morning. At the time, he had meant it as a completely innocuous statement. Truly.

"Rach…"

She looks over at him with a questioning glance, but under the surface he can see her insecurity mounting. She's nervous.

He was about to tell her that they didn't have to, that he doesn't want to pressure her, the whole spiel, but he doesn't want to give her the impression that he doesn't want her, either. And he does really (really) want her.

There will be time for those comments later.

He smiles reassuringly at her. "I knew you were a con artist, but this is impressive. I had no idea."

She smiles at his compliment. "I was planning this regardless, but then the Gaga concert opportunity presented itself. It probably bought us an extra hour."

"I can't believe that you would give up Lady Gaga for me."

She shrugs her shoulders and looks out the window. "Epic romance, right?"

V.

They sit in the driveway for a minute after he parks the car and he's reminded of how they did this last night under very different circumstances.

This time, they both know exactly what will happen when they get inside.

He thinks he might as well get into character. He goes over to her door and opens it, kissing her hand before he helps her down the steep step of the SUV.

She wraps her arms around his neck and leans up to kiss him chastely on the lips.

"Ready?" he asks softly, fussing with his scarf around her neck.

She nods and kisses him again, allows him to lead her by the hand to the door.

He's unlocking the door when they both see it at the same time: the flicker of a light turning on.

They both pause and he contemplates pulling her back towards the car and driving away.

It's too late. His mother opens the door, and she is standing there with a martini glass and an expectant expression on her face.

"Jesse Michael! I wasn't sure that I would be seeing you tonight. Come in, come in, both of you."

He glances wearily at Rachel who has a slightly terrified expression on her face. His mother literally drags him into the house and Rachel has no choice but to follow.

Once he crosses the threshold, he realizes that his mother is not alone.

"Jesse, dear, you remember Isabella Runyon don't you? David Runyon's daughter? You were practically in love with her when you were a kid."

Isabella raises her own martini glass in acknowledgement of Jesse, a slight blush tinting her face at his mother's awkward introduction.

"And what's your name, dear?" his mother questions Rachel.

"Rachel, Rachel Berry," Jesse answers her, "My girlfriend."

Caroline smiles courteously at Rachel before looking back to her son. "Jesse," she says tapping him on the shoulder critically, "Be a gentleman and take Rachel's coat."

Jesse sighs and moves towards Rachel who immediately grasps her coat tighter around her body.

"I get cold really easily," she says, not meeting anyone's eyes, "I think I'll keep it on."

Jesse looks at Rachel, surprised at her attachment to her coat, but then he sees the deep blush that colors her cheeks. He knows that blush. His eyes widen when he realizes what she must be trying to hide.

He vividly remembers the lengths Rachel took the last time she intended to make their first time together special.

He still has dreams about that cape.

Caroline shares a look with Isabella before turning back to Rachel. "Suit yourself, dear."


	29. Chapter 29

_**I feel so bad for not updating but I have never been this busy in my life! Sorry! This is a short, filler chapter, but it raises some new plot points. Hopefully it will tide you over until next time aka the wedding and a bit later the sex. **_

I.

He walks in to the party and someone, Brad he thinks, asks where the hell St. James is.

"O-fucking-hio," John replies, with just enough in his tone to make it suggestive.

He's the last one to arrive. This is a smaller party than the last one, just the group, and his entrance causes the body shots to cease. He can sense everyone's attention shift rapidly to Meg because of his answer.

Of course, Meg takes that as her cue to greet him by the door, saltshaker still in hand, and kiss him lewdly in front of everyone. Then, she grasps his zipper and pulls him to the center of the room.

"Too bad he's not here," she shrieks, putting down the saltshaker and grabbing Alex's beer from his hand, "I have an announcement."

In her drunken state, Meg looks nothing like the leader she is, but she manages to grab the group's attention nonetheless.

"The Coppertones are releasing their first album!" she states, raising the beer above her head. "I met with a producer last week and some foundation is funding us. Apparently acapella groups are all the rage right now." She punctuates the last sentence with a girly giggle and a swig of beer.

John can tell that the group is unsure whether or not she is telling the truth. Meg can be a bit eccentric when she gets drunk. Usually, Jesse is the one to deal with her, in a manner of speaking.

Meg turns back to him with a triumphant smile on her face. "And my man here is singing lead."

Her statement both thrills and unnerves him at the same time.

He knows where this is coming from, knows that this is a game to her. Yet, part of him can't seem to care.

He thinks he is smart enough to play this particular game.

He doesn't get a chance to question Meg or observe the rest of the group's reactions to his new appointment because Lexi pointedly removes Meg's hand from his groin and drags him outside.

It's the first time that he's ever seen someone actually heartbroken. It's a hard feeling to define, but it is there, written plain as day on her face.

He drops his head, embarrassed, and waits for her to speak. Lately, she's become one of his best friends. She's non-assuming and always there, ready to talk. He had never had the least romantic thought about her until the day he admitted to her that he had forgotten what it was like to kiss someone that wasn't his girlfriend. She had promptly leaned over and pecked him on the lips, and that was that. Problem solved.

Since then, they've kissed here or there but she stopped them from going further each time. He has always admired her self-respect in that regard.

But, recently, he's been making more and more use of Meg's lack of self-respect.

After what feels like an eternity of silence, she looks at him, shaking her head. "Don't you have anything to say?"

He doesn't know what to say so he demurs to the quiet.

He can tell that somehow, in the short time since she took him outside, she has planned what she wanted to say, because her response has the necessary sting.

"Jesse gets my vote, then."

He feels the truth of her words, realizes that he had already accepted that consequence before she even said it.

She turns around and walks down the sidewalk instead of returning to the party. He watches her leave and wonders if he's lost both of his best friends in one night.

II.

His mother is standing at the martini bar in the kitchen, directing the conversation, while he, Rachel, and Isabella sit at the raised breakfast bar.

Isabella is saying something about Abu Dhabi.

That's as much as he gathers.

His eyes are constantly drawn to Rachel's lap where she is holding her coat closed in a vice grip. How had he not noticed before that she didn't seem to have a dress or a skirt on beneath that coat? His imagination is running wild with the possibilities.

Rachel kicks him, hard, when she realizes where his focus lies. She can tell that he has caught on to her predicament.

He abruptly raises his eyes to meet hers. He would hate to tell her that her gesture has only succeeded in adding stiletto boots to his mental images.

His mother offers them something to drink and he sees his opportunity, runs with it.

He mentions something about tickets to a Gaga concert and needing to stop at home because he forgot his gloves.

His mother gives him her well-practiced disapproving glare. He mutters a meaningless apology and tells her that he and Rachel really do need to leave. They stop by his room to grab the gloves he never wears, which gives Rachel just enough time to glance at the room that she would have lost her virginity in.

Maybe another day.

Rachel, ever polite, tells both his mother and Isabella goodbye at the door and apologizes for their abrupt departure. It's obvious to Jesse that she is waiting for another invitation to be extended, but it never comes.

Jesse squeezes her hand and gives it a subtle tug. If he doesn't interrupt, she will be waiting forever.

"The show starts in twenty minutes, Rach."

Rachel nods and follows him, but he can tell that she is disappointed.

He thinks about apologizing for his parents but he wouldn't know where to start.

III.

He drives further into the subdivision and she looks at him quizzically, still holding her coat, until he pulls over by a landscaped pond. If you squint out the houses in the background, it's sort of pretty.

She sighs heavily and climbs into the backseat, carefully holding her coat together. He moves to follow her but she braces her hand between the seats effectively blocking his way. He looks at her and she shakes her head at him.

"Stay there and don't turn around." She glances at the mirror and adds, "Just close your eyes," as a second thought.

He thinks that she is trying to be seductive so he says, in an exaggerated whiney tone, "I want to see."

"No."

His comeback is already on the tip of his tongue but he frowns when he recognizes the hurt in her voice.

"Rach…"

"Please, Jesse."

He does as she asks, all the while listening to the torturous sounds of buttons being undone, zippers unzipped, clothing removed and replaced then tucked away in a bag that she must have hidden back there earlier.

"Okay," she finally says.

He looks to the mirror first, half hoping that the sounds had lied.

They didn't. She's sitting there in a plain, white t-shirt, a grey hoodie and jeans. Her feet are bare and pulled up onto the seat, her hands encircling her knees. He gives himself a split second to mourn the loss of the stiletto boots.

"I'm never going to be one of those girls," she starts, "I don't know why I ever try to convince myself that I can be."

"Which girls?" he asks curiously as he climbs back to sit next to her.

"One of those girls that can dress up for their boyfriends and have everything go smoothly and perfectly." She pauses and cringes, rests her chin on her knee. "God, that was embarrassing."

He laughs and realizes a minute too late that that probably wasn't the reaction she was hoping for when she turns her head to look away from him.

"Did you sleep with her too?"

He laughs again and she turns her head back to shoot him a glare. She doesn't find this funny at all.

"I may have wanted to when I was thirteen, but I never got anywhere close. She's older and has always been involved with some guy that she went to middle school with."

"They broke up," Rachel counters. Jesse shoots her a confused look.

"Were you not listening to anything they were saying? She broke up with her boyfriend, she's moving to Abu Dhabi to run her dad's company and she is staying at your house until…" here Rachel breaks off, stresses her next words, "Until the both of you leave for the summer."

Jesse chuckles, which earns him a sharp slap on the thigh. "I might have been slightly distracted," he jokes.

She smiles reluctantly, which he was hoping for.

"Your dad would go to all of this trouble to make sure you go away for the summer?"

Jesse shakes his head. "It's more than that. He wants to make the point that I am destined to screw up this relationship."

"By placing a succubus down the hall."

"Dramatic much?"

"I am never going to look like her," Rachel says softly, tucking her hair behind her ear.

"Stop it." He says it with more anger than he intends and she looks at him with wide eyes. "I hate that they make you think that you aren't pretty or sexy…"

She cuts him off, shaking her head. "It's different with you. You love me. You don't see my flaws." She winces. "I have a lot."

"Stop it," he repeats. He grabs her knees and pulls her to face him, hand reaching up to caress her face. "You are beautiful and sexy and gorgeous by anybody's standards. And, as much as it kills me to admit it, I'm sure that if we called up Finn or mohawk guy or that reporter guy or anyone else in glee club they would agree with me."

He senses that she's not fully convinced. He sighs. "I'm worried about you coming to NYU because of all the guys that will want to steal you away from me."

She rolls her eyes.

"Fine. I'll make you a bet. If three different guys don't hit on you during your next visit to NYU…"

She's intrigued by his premise and he can tell that whatever he's going to promise her has to be good, "… I'll shave my head."

Her mouth drops open. "You wouldn't."

"I won't have to. I'm that confident I will win this bet."

"I think I've been asked out three times in my life total," she says, running her hands through his hair with obvious concern.

He shrugs his shoulders. "Lima's a close-minded town. They don't recognize obvious talent and beauty."

"I'm sorry about tonight," she whispers, effectively changing the topic, "I really wanted it to be perfect and now… I can't."

"Can you at least tell me what you had on under that coat? I'm dying to know."

She climbs back over, but heads for the driver's seat, turning the key to start the engine.

"Who said I had anything on?"


	30. Chapter 30

Chapter 30

I.

He drops his keys loudly onto his desk after dropping Rachel home, feeling slightly annoyed. He glances over at his bed and contemplates what would have happened if his mother had not been home.

Its good to know that Rachel is ready, but he has a feeling that he's going to return to New York on Monday without them officially consummating their relationship. He knows he's only had to wait two weeks, and he honestly thought he would have had to wait much longer, but it irks him nonetheless.

After realizing that going back to either of their houses was no longer an option, they had grabbed dinner and hot chocolate and she had driven them to the fields outside the city where she used to take riding lessons. Out there, the stars were vivid and plentiful, and the horses would sometimes come out for a nighttime gallop before retreating back into the warmth of the open shed. They had walked up to the fence to watch them, and when it got too cold, he had used the blankets he had left in the backseat that morning to cocoon them as they lay together on the hood of his car, gazing up at the heavens.

Kurt had called Rachel's phone right when Jesse had thought there was a chance he was about to get lucky on the hood of his car, in January, in front of some horses. But, apparently, Lady Gaga's concert wasn't as long as any of them had thought it would be and Jesse reluctantly buttoned himself back up and drove first to Kurt's, and then to Rachel's, leaving her with a kiss on her cheek and a wave to her dads.

He is ridiculously frustrated and it hadn't helped matters that, on the drive home, he snuck a quick look into the bag Rachel had left on the floor of his car. At the time, he hadn't been able to help himself, but now he wished he could take it back because visions of her in purple lace are _torturing_ him.

_I want you_.

He knows it's late and she was exhausted when he dropped her off, but he's really hoping for a response.

He waits two minutes for her to text back before sighing and realizing that it's not going to happen and he doesn't have the heart to wake her.

He just about sprints back into the room when he hears his phone ringing.

It's John.

"How's operation get you laid going?" John opens, without his usual suggestive tone.

Jesse groans in response and John laughs.

"That bad, huh?"

"We keep getting interrupted," Jesse complains, "Tonight, she even…" He stops because he remembers that Rachel would hate it if he finished that sentence.

"Never mind. This is _not _helping."

"Lexi found out about Meg," John says quietly, "She was really hurt."

"How did you manage that?"

"Meg announced it to the whole group," John pauses, "In a manner of speaking."

"Leave it to Meg," Jesse responds, at a loss for what more to say. Both of them knew that this would eventually happen.

"Lexi will come around," Jesse placates, but they are both aware of the lie.

"There's more."

Jesse laughs before he can stop himself. "Did they find out about Claire too? John, congratulations! You're a stud," he mocks.

"Meg arranged for us to record an album. She wants me to sing lead."

John's statement is met with dead silence, so he continues, almost guiltily. "I'm not going to back down from this."

"Well, what do you want me to say?" Jesse demands.

"Maybe that you're willing to give someone else a chance for once." John argues, trying to keep his temper in check.

"I never thought that you could be this stupid, John. I'm the best singer in the group. The only male lead. You do realize that this is all about Meg trying to get back at me, don't you?"

"I do," John states, "Trust me, I'm aware. But the question still stands: what you are going to do about it?"

II.

That question remains with Jesse long after John is off the phone. His stomach begins to growl fiercely, so he makes his way to the kitchen. He feels an inexplicable, almost primitive desire for meat.

He doesn't expect to find Isabella sitting watching the television in the kitchen when he gets down there. She's wearing a filmy silk nightgown with a matching robe, which she draws closed as he approaches.

"Sorry," she apologizes and he's not exactly sure why, "I couldn't sleep and I didn't want to wake anyone so I thought I would watch in here and not in the living room."

Jesse finds some slices of ham in the fridge and lays out the supplies for a sandwich on the counter. He gestures to the bread, asking her silently if she would like one of the sandwiches that he is about to make for himself.

"Sure," she responds, hopping down from her perch on the bar stool to grab him a wine glass and pour him some red wine from the bottle she has next to her. Some infomercial plays tirelessly in the background.

"You look pissed," she notices.

He nods after a while, sliding her sandwich towards her while intercepting the wine glass.

He's worked up and needs to do something about it, so he tells her about John and Meg, and about John's news this evening, details interspersed with curse words. She listens quietly, steals a piece of tomato from the side of his plate, where it fell out of his sandwich.

"See, that's more what I was expecting," she says when he finishes.

He doesn't know what she means and, when he asks, she tells him that he has a reputation, has had one for years.

"Rachel definitely wasn't what I was expecting," she states somewhat cautiously.

Jesse shrugs his shoulders. He doesn't know how to respond to that, doesn't really care to respond.

"I'm pretty sure I used to be Rachel," Isabella pauses, looks up at him, finger drawing circles on the marble counter, "Until my boyfriend got someone else pregnant."

He feels, through a light buzz, that the conversation has just moved into dangerous territory, though he's not sure why. He puts his empty plate into the sink, pours the rest of the bottle of wine into his glass, and moves to pass her at the counter to go back to his room.

"You already know what you're going to do, Jesse. There's no sense in hiding from it. You _need_ the spotlight," she stresses. "Remember Jessica Douglas's 14th birthday party when you stole the microphone and wouldn't give it back, making us all suffer through the best of Queen?"

She laughs to herself.

He's over by the couch at this point, but something, he's not sure what, causes him to turn back to face her.

"You need someone to stroke your ego," she says with her eyebrow raised at him, "There's no shame in that. I've come to learn the benefits of it myself."

Her tone seems to border on flirtation, but he can't tell whether it's the wine (she's had a lot more to drink than he has) or her genuine intention.

He turns back around to head to his room. "Let her down easy," Isabella half yells from the kitchen.

He hates that he wants to ask Isabella which 'her' she's referring to.

III.

As soon as Rachel wakes up, she reaches blindly for her phone on her nightstand. Her heart skips a beat when she sees Jesse's text message from hours ago, his raw desire for her somehow palpable through the screen. She knew he would take a peek into her bag. Part of her had left it for that very purpose.

She blushes when she thinks that she had almost let them go all the way last night, in public (well technically it was), on top of his car. Not exactly how she had ever pictured losing her virginity, but she had wanted to. Badly.

This morning, thinking back to it, she still wants to.

She makes up her mind, quickly gets dressed, and stops by the study to ask her dad's permission. He's up early because Sunday is his biggest workday, and he's preparing for a trial he has early the next morning.

It's easier than she thought it would be. She simply tells Leroy that Jesse invited her out for breakfast, and that she'll be back to get ready for the wedding at 11. She bites her lip as she waits for his response, but he doesn't seem to think there is much trouble she can get into in three hours, so he lets her go.

She dials Jesse's number as she's pulling onto his street, holding the phone against her shoulder with her head as she parallel parks on the side of the road.

"I'm outside. Can you come get me?"

She walks up to the front door and is startled when Isabella chirps "Good Morning" to her from a half-open window to her left, though she makes no move to let Rachel in. She hadn't expected anyone to be up at this hour, had bet on a quiet house, but Isabella looks as though she's been up for a while. Her coffee smells delicious and she's got the paper on her lap, her legs folded Indian style, several inches of bare thigh visible from under her short nightgown.

"I'm not sure Jesse is awake," she frowns, "We were up pretty late last night." She takes a sip of coffee to fill the awkward pause when Rachel doesn't respond. "His best friend betraying him with his ex." Isabella shakes her head. "He was livid."

Rachel's stunned face is diverted from Isabella when the door opens and Jesse grabs her hand and laces her fingers with his, pulling her into the house. He's wearing an NYU t-shirt inside out and pajama pants he looks like he hurriedly dragged on, the drawstring hanging loosely at both sides.

He kisses her on the lips while leading her to his room, mumbling something about his mom and Isabella being asleep.

"Isabella is awake," Rachel corrects, "She's in the windowseat. What happened last night?"

Jesse looks confused for a minute and runs a hand through his hair. "Nothing," he finally says.

They've gotten to his room and Jesse locks the door, takes off his shirt and pants and literally dives back onto his bed.

It takes him a minute to realize that Rachel has her arms folded and is standing by the bed, making no moves to join him.

"Rach, come on," he begs. "I don't want to talk about it right now."

"But you can talk about it with her."

"I was angry last night and she was there. I'll tell you later."

She shakes her head. "Not good enough. She said it was about John and Meg."

He sits up and reaches for her, grabbing onto her sweatshirt and tugging her to him until her knees bump against the mattress.

"It's been a while since we were in bed together," he whispers softly.

"Are you still hung up on Meg?"

"No," he states harshly, hands slamming against the bed. He lets out a loud sigh, shakes his head.

"We're not doing this. Not now."

"Okay," she says. "Then we're not doing this," she gestures between the two of them, "Not now."

She's expecting him to concede, to give in and tell her what Isabella was talking about.

He doesn't.

"I'm going back to bed."

"Then I'm going home."

"Fine."

"Fine."

"See you, Rachel," Isabella says pleasantly as Rachel rushes through the front door.

_**Next chapter the wedding! Your reviews would really make my extremely busy month that much happier **_____


	31. Chapter 31

I.

He shows up when she's almost done getting ready, after he's slept for a couple of hours and nursed his hangover with dry bagels and coffee.

Hiram lets him into the house with a knowing smirk at the Starbucks cup he holds in his hand. He tells Jesse that he made it "just in time" and that Leroy ran out to the office for a few files.

Jesse slowly makes his way up to her room. Rachel is a vision in a deep red dress and her bunny bedslippers. Her face is screwed up in concentration as she tries to mimic the up-do in some girly magazine she has next to her, but it quickly changes to irritation when she glimpses him in the mirror.

"Hi there, gorgeous. You taken?" He says it playfully while leaning against the doorway to her bathroom, coffee cup thrust in her direction, all the while hoping that she won't be able to resist him.

She raises one eyebrow in the mirror and turns around to face him, arms folded over the ruffles of her dress.

His efforts are not appreciated.

"Depends."

He exhales slowly. He obviously has his work cut out for him.

He steps towards her and places the cup on the vanity, reaches out to touch the hair that she has let fall against her neck.

"You should leave it down."

She shrugs him off, wraps her hair tightly around her right hand and coils it against her head in protest, then lets it go with a groan of frustration.

"I hate that you won't talk to me," she finally says, unwilling to bear the tension between them now that he's made the effort to come to her.

"Don't be like this Rachel," he states firmly, "You have nothing to worry about."

She takes it as an offense. He's not giving her what she wants so she pushes past him to get into her bedroom.

But, at the last possible second, he grabs her hand and pulls her to him, sandwiching them in the doorway. Feeling the heat flare between them, they both glance wearily towards the bedroom door to ensure that they are still alone.

He presses his face closes to hers and his words are almost a whisper.

"You want the truth?"

She nods against him, eyes looking up at him with a pleading stare.

He takes a deep breath before he begins. "I hate being back here. I hate being back in that house. I hate not having freedom. I hate having to sneak around and drop you off at the end of the night. And I hate having to leave you."

She huffs and tries to break away from him again. "Thanks, Jesse. Nice to know that you resent me for bringing you here."

He's ready for her this time. "You're worth it," he explains slowly, "100% worth it. But forgive me if when you're around, I don't want to talk about everything else. All I want is to be with you."

"You can't just distract me every time I want to talk about something. You can't expect me to…" She doesn't get to finish her sentence because he interrupts her.

"Shut up and get naked?" He says it teasingly, with a hint of a smile.

She bites her lip. She's always been a little bit psychic, but she's never had déjà vu this strong before. What he just said, the sexy way in which he said it, it sounds familiar, like he's said it to her before (which he hasn't), or that he'll say it to her in the future, many, many times.

She can't help the blush that rises to her cheeks, which is problematic, because she's supposed to be mad at him.

She feels the anger drain out of her, but she can't let him know that just yet. How does he make forgiving him so easy?

She pushes out of his embrace and sits on the edge of her bed, carefully arranging the skirt of her dress under her.

He stays in the doorway of her bathroom, conceding to the change in atmosphere and the inevitability that is her winning this fight. He gives her the quick rundown of what happened with John and Meg, tells her how he ended up unloading on Isabella.

"I know that John wants the chance to shine, but I'm just worried that…" It's his turn to trail off, unsure of how to explain the rest to her.

"… that people will only think that you sang lead because you were sleeping with Meg, even though it's not true," she concludes.

He looks up at her, surprised that she gets it, and she chuckles, sticks out her tongue at him.

"She likes you and you spurned her advances. I've come to understand obsessive girl syndrome. It's exactly what she was going for. I have a couple of ideas for how to deal with this."

"Then do you understand why you have no reason to be jealous?"

She looks down at her lap, links her fingers together. "If you promise me that is all there is."

He comes over to the bed and sits next to her, grasps her hand in his and brings it against his chest. "I swear. Cross my heart and hope to die," he finishes teasingly.

"And Isabella?"

Jesse laughs raucously. "I'll bet you anything she's sleeping with my father."

He watches as Rachel's eyebrows rise into her hairline. "But she's so young," Rachel shakes her head, pauses, "And she's staying with your mother!"

Jesse only shrugs at her outrage. "My parents don't even sleep in the same room," he explains. "As for my mother, keep your enemies closer, I guess. It wouldn't be the first time he's slept around."

Jesse feels as if he has just shattered Rachel's innocence. "Should I not have told you that?"

"No," she quickly remedies, "It's just …," she sighs loudly, "Are we crazy? I know we're young and I'm well-versed in all the ways that our long distance romance can go wrong," she smiles weakly at him, "But I still feel like I'm madly in love with you and that we'll make it regardless."

"Good," he reassures her.

She wrinkles her nose at him, "Good?" she questions, "Is that all you have to say?"

He shakes his head. "I had them put cinnamon sugar in your coffee."

She rolls her eyes at him and gets up to retrieve the coffee cup. It's cool enough by now, so she removes the lid and takes a large sip.

"It's delicious," she says quietly as she makes her way back over to the bed.

He wipes a thin strip of foam from the side of her mouth with his thumb before sliding it towards the center of her lips. Her tongue reaches out to lick his finger free of the foam before taking it into her mouth, applying light pressure with her tongue.

She lets his thumb go with an audible pop and she smiles as she sees a shudder go through him, even from that little contact.

"Tease," he complains.

"You could have had me this morning," she whispers conspiratorially, "You just had to get all grumpy." She gets up from the bed and winks at him. "Suffer."

He watches as she returns to her vanity and her curling iron, smiling when he recognizes that she intends to wear her hair down, the way he likes it.

"Hey, Rach," he calls out to her from her bed, "I'm madly in love with you too." She smiles at him through the mirror. "And I'll be suffering until I see you tonight."

II.

She pulls into the parking lot of the church only about fifteen minutes late. Rachel Berry is usually never late to anything, but the choice between making out with her still apologetic boyfriend and rushing off to her ex's mother's wedding seemed like no contest.

She's glad that Jesse came over and apologized this morning. She was dreading facing Finn at the wedding when she was still pissed off at Jesse. She's not entirely sure why those two things are still connected.

She slips in to rehearsal and is greeted with a smirk from Santana, a raised eyebrow from Kurt, and disapproving glances from Mr. Shue and, surprisingly, Finn.

They practice the song a couple of times and Rachel can't help but think that the selection is still entirely inappropriate. Of all the love songs in the world, New Directions would choose one with the words 'trashed' and 'patron' in it. Her pride as captain is at stake here.

They do the number and the ceremony is over quickly. At the reception, she overhears some of the older guests complain about the song and she lectures Mr. Schue in a hushed tone, suggesting that she has multiple songs in her repertoire that she could do to make up for their earlier faux pas.

The rest of the group is standing around near the sound system, bored, waiting for this scene with Mr. Schue to play out. Kurt is talking to Mercedes but winks at Rachel once, disguising it by attempting to fix his hair. They had already had the conversation about how much he hated the song and he silently applauds her efforts.

Finally, Mr. Schue throws his hands up in the air and tells Rachel that this wedding isn't about her so she should just "suck it up." It's better than how she expected him to respond, so she counts it as a win, grabbing a glass of water from a nearby table, sitting down by herself.

"I chose that song," Finn states out of nowhere, walking up behind her.

Rachel lets out a squeak around the mouth of the glass, surprised at his close proximity. "Is that really the song you want your mother associating with the happiest day of her life?" Rachel asks, firmly convinced, even if she never does manage to convince anyone else.

Finn shrugs. "I guess _Just the way you are_ is better. I'm singing that one later tonight."

Rachel nods, forfeiting the point, though 'better' is a matter of opinion.

"I'm singing it to you."

She turns fully to face Finn, sensing the dangerous undercurrent in his tone. He's physically close to her, and she's sitting with her back to the wall. An odd sense of panic rises within her.

"Don't," she warns, "It won't change anything, Finn. We're over."

"You don't have to feel guilty."

She's really confused, still feels inexplicably nervous. She furrows her brow and swallows audibly. "I'm not."

"Did you sleep with him?" Her eyes widen at his question and she sits up straight in her chair. He takes her silence as acquiescence and nods.

"I saw you two at the airport on Friday," he explains. "I hate that it had to be him, but I get it. He's the only person that would hurt me like I hurt you with Santana. I really didn't mean to lie to you, Rachel."

She sits there, stunned, and absorbs his words.

"I hate that you had to lower yourself to his level to get back at me."

He rests his hand under her chin, lifts his face so that he can see the tears in her eyes.

"It's okay. I forgive you. I love you. Our first time together will mean something special, I promise."

She has never been disgusted by simple words before, but, in this moment, Finn's actually turn her stomach. His insinuation that her being with Jesse is anything but the heavenly bliss that it is sickens her.

She wrenches her face out of his grip and stands up abruptly, catching the attention of the rest of New Directions, most of whom are coming back with plates of appetizers. She sees a glint of recognition in Kurt's eye. Danger.

The slap echoes throughout the crowded reception hall.

"I love him," she says to Finn, though the hall is now so quiet that her short sentence seems to reverberate off the walls. "Don't ever touch me again."

Kurt calls her later that night to say that, on Burt's orders, he filled Finn in on her and Jesse's two-week relationship. "I'm sorry I caved," Kurt states, asking for her forgiveness, "But at least this way it's all out in the open. We should be free to love who we want. Isn't that the essence of Gaga?"

Rachel doesn't respond and hangs up the phone.

III.

It's worse than she fears.

At 9:00 am on Monday morning she is standing in her driveway, sticky and dripping. Jesse drives up minutes later, his phone clutched tightly in his hand. He's dressed in a suit, having just finished giving a statement about Shelby down at Leroy's office. His face is complete anguish from her frantic phone call.

He reaches where she is standing against her car and plucks a piece of red-tinted ice of out of her hair.

"I couldn't stay there," she explains between sniffles.

He attempts to thread his fingers through her hair and meets resistance in the form of a sticky, yellow substance.

She looks up at him and watches comprehension dawn on his face.

Egg yolk.

"God, Rach. I'm not worth this." He sounds like he's about to cry, a tone she's never heard from him.

She buries her head into his chest, messing up his suit in the process. "Don't you dare."

Despite his attempts to go to the school and wreak some havoc, she leads them up to her bedroom and, without preamble, strips off her clothes and gets into the shower.

Even before she reaches for him, he peels off the suit to join her, his hands combing gently through her hair under the pressure of the water as he attempts to get all the debris out.

She has her back to him as he shampoos her hair and it takes her a while to realize that he is humming quietly, to himself or to her, she's not sure. When she recognizes the tune to _Caught in the Crowd_, her breath hitches.

If _Don't Cry for me Argentina_ is the song that she imagines New Directions singing at her funeral, _Caught in the Crowd_ is the song that she imagines that all of McKinley sings to her at their ten-year reunion.

_I was young and caught in the crowd  
I didn't know then what I know now  
I was dumb and I was proud and I'm sorry_

If I could go back, do it again  
I'd be someone you could call friend  
Please, please believe that I'm sorry

She recognizes this for what it is: his form of penance, on behalf of everyone who has ever wronged her. What he wishes he would have done the last time she had come home covered in egg, the result of his own handiwork. She thinks she finally understands the meaning of the term full-circle.

That he would pick out that particular tune for this particular moment … there are no words.

She wants to explain to him that she is completely his; that she gets it now; that there is something more powerful at work here. She thinks that the fact that he is about to physically be inside her makes sense to her in a way that she cannot express. It feels like the most logical thing in the world.

She knows that she is the one that eventually turns off the water, but she loses track after that. Somehow they end up on her bed, limbs intertwining, bodies connecting. There is no one to interrupt them, no going back this time.

His plane leaves in six hours.


	32. Chapter 32

_**Sorry for the delay in this chapter. Work is driving me crazy! It's short, but it contains an important plot development. **_

I.

He's exhausted but unable to sleep, regrets plaguing his thoughts. He has been fighting the urge to get up and leave her for the past twenty minutes.

Because the need to pummel Finn Hudson's face in is almost physically overwhelming him.

There are two things keeping him there, though: the leg intertwined with his and the fact that she would never forgive him if he wasn't there when she woke up after their first time together.

He hates that as wonderful as their morning together was, its beauty will always be connected to the ugliness that preceded it.

She doesn't deserve ugly, but she's so damn accustomed to getting it thrown in her face. It pains him to think that he has anything to do with that.

He senses she is awake when she attempts to stealthily remove her leg from the intimate place it currently rests in.

He won't let her get away with her shyness, not any more. He grabs her inner thigh to reposition her leg against him, bringing it even closer to where she was trying to avoid.

She blushes and half-smiles and it's the cutest thing in the world because her eyes are still closed.

He forgets about Finn Hudson for a minute, and turns all of his attention back to her.

He begins to stroke the skin on her arm with the pads of his fingers, softly back and forth, smiling when she cuddles even closer to him and lets out a contented sigh, basking in the afterglow. It was something he had been surprised and pleased to learn about her. To most of the world, she was high energy and always on the go, whether it was school or practice or any other activity on her hectic schedule. No one else got to see the Rachel that he had to literally coax out of bed, who would stay in all day and shun her responsibilities if she had a good enough reason to.

He has almost lulled her back to sleep when he interrupts his rhythm, making a quick detour across her chest to circle her sensitive areola.

He chuckles at the gasp that escapes her, her eyes shooting open to meet his, effectively destroying her pretense of sleep.

"Hey there sleepyhead," he whispers, bringing his hand up to caress her cheek.

She smiles in response and sits up, stretching her arms above her. The action draws his lustful gaze to her naked chest.

When he looks back up at her face, she's biting her lip, trying to hide another smile. "I'm not a virgin anymore," she tells him matter-of-factly.

"I remember," he states with a smile, "I think I was there."

"You were," she confirms jokingly, but then her tone turns serious and quiet, "That was amazing, Jesse." It's her turn to trace patterns into his chest with her fingers, lightly tickling the sensitive spot under his third rib.

"Right back at you," he responds, weaving his fingers through her messy hair. "Though I do wish that I had made it more romantic for you."

Her normally tidy room is in complete disarray. She looks around and notes that the bathroom light is still on despite the bright sunlight streaming through the bedroom window. She can still make out wet spots on the wood floor because they had both come out of the shower dripping and neither of them had been willing to stop touching each other long enough to reach for a towel. The drawer of her night table is half open and there's an empty condom wrapper tossed haphazardly below it. Most of her sheets are in a tangled heap at the foot of the bed, the majority of the pillows on the floor. She catches a glimpse of her hair in the mirror of her vanity and attempts to flatten the mop of curls it had dried into, then reaches over to do the same to him.

He's watching her take it all in, anticipating her reaction, a million questions floating in his head that he can't bring himself to ask.

"It was perfect," she says, leaning down to kiss him chastely on the lips.

He allows himself to relax a little, though he still feels somewhat perplexed. She seems to have forgotten the pain she had been in not so long ago, though he can still feel the ghost of the grip she held on his forearm as he slid into her, and for a couple of minutes after that.

She breaks their bubble, telling him to close his eyes as she gets a t-shirt and underwear out of her dresser. He laughs and makes a production of it, covering his eyes and peeking through his fingers like a five year old would.

She throws him a t-shirt from his Carmel days, one that he had long-forgotten he owned. "Thief," he scolds her lovingly, as he trudges to the bathroom to find his discarded boxers. He doesn't miss that she must have had the shirt since their first relationship ended last year and all through her relationship with Finn.

And he's back to Finn.

She's trying to brush through her hair, but even he can see that it's a lost cause. She huffs and gives up, winding her hair into a messy bun on top of her head.

He has been unknowingly watching her for a while, but he doesn't realize it until she calls him out. "What?" she asks with a smirk, "You're staring at me."

He actually blushes.

"You're not freaking out."

She abruptly turns back to the mirror, but there is nothing left for her to fuss with. She swallows a quick retort, knows that he won't be fooled.

"I'm trying very hard right now to not become the needy girl after sex even if the thought of you leaving tonight kills me." She tries to hold back the tears that have suddenly snuck up on her.

"This would all be so much easier if you were here," she sniffs. She doesn't have to explain what she means.

"Let me do something about it. I can…"

"No."

He raises one eyebrow at her ready dismissal of his offer to deal with Finn Hudson and the rest of the people that hurt her on a daily basis.

She comes over to him and starts straightening out the sheets on the bed, closing the night table drawer with her hip. "That will just make it worse."

"Then if I am the problem …"

She cuts him off again. "Jess, I'll deal with it. What? You think they will suddenly start being nice to me again if we're not together? I've made my decision and I stand by what I want. Can we please change the subject?"

He nods, heeding the sharp rise in her tone.

She sits down on the still-wrinkled bed and holds her face in her hands. "I'm sorry. This isn't how I pictured … afterward would be."

He moves to lie down again on the bed, nudging her leg and telling her to "scoot."

"So," he begins, fingers tracing over that sensitive spot on her left thigh. "January 31, 2011."

She smiles in response, immediately getting where he is going, spirits perking up. "The day we made love for the first time." She giggles, shakes her head. "I gave it up after only two weeks. I'm such a harlot. And to think that Ms. Holiday once called me frigid."

He shifts so that he is on top of her, braces his weight on one hand so he can caress her face. "And tell me, Ms. Berry," he whispers against her ear, "Did you enjoy sex?"

He groans when she locks eyes with him and nods, her hips rising to make contact with his. "Very much so, Mr. St. James."

II.

They both panic when her phone wakes them up around three and they can hear loud knocking coming from downstairs. Thankfully, its only Kurt and Santana, but it could have easily been her dads coming home early from work.

Rachel hurriedly gets dressed to let her friends in, while Jesse tries to straighten up her room (again).

It shocks Rachel at first to see Kurt and Santana together and it sounds like they were just as shocked when they both ended up in her driveway immediately after school, neither of them knowing that the other was friends with Rachel.

She hasn't eaten since her breakfast shake this morning, and she has been engaged in some energy-depleting activities, so she leads them both to the kitchen and raids the refrigerator for some snacks.

Santana and Kurt are both more animated than usual, relating how the whole school was abuzz with what happened to her in the parking lot this morning. Since it had happened in the parking lot and she had fled right after, no one had officially reported anything to Figgins.

"Finn was furious last night," Kurt states, "But I can't believe that he would let them do that to you."

Jesse comes down soon after that comment, dressed again in his crumpled dress shirt and pants, carrying his soiled jacket. The approving look Santana shoots Rachel leaves her unable to make eye contact with anyone for a while.

Jesse unwillingly interrupts their conversation. He explains that his flight leaves in less than four hours and since all his stuff is at home and he has the Range Rover, it makes more sense for him to drive home and then cab to the airport than for Rachel to accompany him. She puts up a fight, she wants to spend as much time with him as possible, but she can't ignore the practicality of what he is saying. She also doesn't want to have to drive home alone after an emotional goodbye at the airport.

Rachel walks Jesse out to the car. She teases that he must be starving and tosses the nutrition bar and bottle of water she had brought for him onto the front seat of the SUV. The joking ends there, though, as she cries as they hug and kiss goodbye. He tells her that he will try to come back for Valentine's Day, which cheers her up. She's never had a boyfriend for Valentine's Day before and she thinks that the holiday will actually mean something for the first time.

She tugs on the belt of his pants as she tells him to "Be good," and he laughs and tells her to do the same. Finally, he gets into the car and rolls the window down to kiss her one last time.

Something occurs to her when she makes her way towards the house and she whips around, yelling to him as he backs out of the driveway, walking back towards the car.

"Jesse, promise me that you are going straight home."

She can tell she hit the nail on the head when he doesn't quite meet her eyes and remains silent.

"Promise me that you won't go to the school and engage in a sing off or any other sort of violent conduct or discourse with Finn."

"Rach…"

She feels disappointment flare within her, a feeling that she is unaccustomed to in regards to him. How can the boy that just spent hours, literally, worshipping her body, want to resort to such chauvinistic ways to solve problems?

"Please trust me to handle this on my own. I need you to promise me, Jesse."

"Fine," he says, obviously reluctantly, "I won't go to the school and confront Finn despite how much I want to hurt him."

She looks let down by the addition to his promise, but it's the best he can do. He sees uncertainty flicker across her face before she accepts.

"I love you," she states, unwilling to let him leave without saying it one last time.

"I love you too."

III.

He remains in the car for about ten minutes before finally deciding to get out, realizing that he is operating on limited time. He's already made up his mind, anyway. He's managed to rationalize that the possible ramifications of this decision will be worth it in the long run.

He just hates disappointing her.

Shelby looks surprised to see him, as she should.

She comments on his attire, and he appreciates the irony of why exactly he was wearing the suit that morning.

He is quietly furious when her first question is not about Rachel, and he realizes just how much this decision will cost him, has already cost him.

He maintains his distance, unwilling to enter the house. He simply explains what happened this morning and asks for her help, anyway she can, to deal with Finn Hudson, to make an example of him for the rest of the school.

It sounds sinister to his ear, but he knows the kinds of things that Vocal Adrenaline is capable of, the kinds of resources that Shelby Corcoran has at her disposal.

"You're not supposed to be here," she states unnecessarily, interrupting his inner turmoil.

He thinks about the fact that, after last year, Rachel was never supposed to forgive him, that he wasn't ever supposed to step foot in Ohio again, that he wasn't supposed to have taken Rachel's virginity just now.

He swallows, and regret seems to be the feeling of the day. "I'm leaving," he says.

_**Thanks for all the great reviews on the last chapter! Please let me know what you think about this one. **_


	33. Chapter 33

Chapter 33

_**Sorry for the delay in updating! Filler chapter, some fluff, but it's extra long! Feedback appreciated. **_

I.

After meeting with Shelby, Jesse speeds home, the increased focus that the drive requires keeping his mind from thinking too much about what that visit might entail.

Like before, he's just not going to think about it until it all blows up on his face.

He comes home to find his mother, folding a pair of his jeans before placing them on top of the duffle bag resting on his desk chair. She's dressed in yoga pants and layered tank tops, her brown curls pulled casually off her makeup-free face.

It takes him a long while to process the scene in front of him. There are so many things wrong with this picture, he doesn't know where to begin.

He has always been overly respectful of his mother, her stern demeanor seemingly demanding it, but his tone is obviously incredulous and suspicious when he asks: "What are you doing?"

"Your flight leaves in a couple of hours."

It's a far cry from the explanation he needs, but she doesn't seem to want to volunteer any more information.

"And?"

"And I thought that I would give my son a ride to the airport."

He exhales loudly. It feels like his relationship with every woman in his life has done a complete 180 today.

Caroline looks up at him, her hands busy with the sweater that Rachel had dropped off the hood of his car on Saturday night, dirt still visible on the black fibers.

"I'm leaving your father."

It takes a minute for the words to register, but when they do, he discredits them without hesitation.

"Right." He can't help the sarcastic tone in his voice, and he sees hurt tinge his mother's face before she lapses back into the cool mask that he knows well.

Except it doesn't last. She drops his sweater unceremoniously on top of his bag, rubs her palms down her thighs over her pants, then starts playing with the large diamond on her left hand.

"He brought her into this house, that bastard. I thought we were helping her until her family got settled in the Middle East. I don't know why I never thought… She's only 22. It's depraved."

Caroline keeps talking, rambling really, and Jesse gathers that she had overheard Isabella talking to his father on the phone, had put two and two together but had not confronted her about it.

"… We've always had an understanding, but I never thought that your father could be so disrespectful or just … downright mean," she concludes, stressing the last word incredulously. "She's 22," she repeats again, and Jesse can tell that, even with everything else, that's the part that really hurts the most.

Jesse remains silent, not looking at her, and she guesses, rightly, that he had suspected this all along.

"Was it really that obvious?" she asks, in a quiet voice that he has never heard her use before.

In response, he uses an expletive to describe his father, cursing in front of his mother for the very first time, and is rewarded with a small, grateful smile that Caroline unsuccessfully tries to hide.

Maybe he is really learning how to deal with women.

His phone buzzes, piercing an awkward silence, and, glad for the interruption, he opens Rachel's message.

_Thank you_ 3

He's thinking of the surprise her left for her, and is contemplating how to respond to her short but loaded message when his mother disturbs his thoughts.

"Was that Rachel?"

Jesse nods, his thumb unconsciously playing over the keys of his phone.

"She's quite the character, isn't she?" Caroline folds her arms across her chest, searching her only son for any hint of a reaction.

Jesse doesn't know whether her question is meant to be friendly or not. He remains silent until she gives him a little more.

"She was very upset yesterday."

Upset is an understatement. Rachel had driven directly to his house after hurriedly leaving the wedding reception. She had been in full drama queen mode, barely acknowledging Caroline when she answered the door before finding Jesse in the living room and giving him a very heated and loud rundown of what had happened with Finn.

His mother had lingered by the door of the living room, unapologetically watching the conversation, obviously intrigued.

Rachel was in her element. She had great material and had always loved an audience.

When she had finally completed her description of the events, there had been a short precipitous pause before he had erupted into a loud, guttural laugh. They had both shot him disbelieving glances, and, incredibly, had exchanged a look at his expense.

Forgive him if he has a hard time taking Finn Hudson seriously. But thinking back, he wishes he could take that laugh back. He definitely doesn't find the events of this morning funny anymore.

After Rachel's monologue, and despite her protests that he was being a jerk, he had grabbed her hand and led her to his room where he had proceeded to kiss her senseless. She had asserted her love for him to a whole banquet hall of people, including all of New Directions. Needless to say, it had brought out the romantic in him.

He can tell, now, that Rachel had also made some sort of impact on his mother.

"Jesse Michael," his mother prompts him in a light tone, "Do you even know how you look at her?"

Jesse runs a hand through his hair, pointedly ignoring the embarrassing question. As much as he can admit it to himself, and to Rachel, he is still an eighteen-year-old guy.

His mother seems to respect his wish not to talk, answers the question for him. "Never before have I been jealous of a couple of teenagers…. And then, after this morning … I can't stay here. Your father has to find someone else to be his lap dog."

She presents him with a key to her friend's apartment building, explains that the two women will be living together, and that there is a sofa bed with his name on it for whenever he wants to visit Ohio.

"It probably won't be as much as a chick magnet as this place," she jokes, looking around at his room, "But you will have a place to stay without your father's inane restrictions." She sighs. "I think we both need that."

He swallows his doubts about his mother's new lifestyle, (she and her friend want to open a Pilates studio for heaven's sake), and responds instead with the practical problems with her proposition.

As awesome as his mother's newfound independence is, he is sure his father won't take too lightly to the fact that he took his mother's side in this, and his father is currently paying half his tuition.

Surprisingly, Caroline has considered this too. Vincent's continuing responsibility for Jesse's education will be a condition of their separation, she promises. Jesse has to admit that his mother really is holding a lot of the cards. A divorce will make Vincent the pariah of his social scene, especially if his friends find out that he was sleeping with one of their twenty-something daughters. If it does come to divorce, Caroline will make more than enough in the settlement to pay Jesse's tuition herself.

His heart feels a little lighter, and he is actually glad that he came home, to this house, for the weekend. All the bad stuff that happened today is temporarily forgotten.

Caroline gives him twenty minutes to get his stuff together so that they can get to the airport on time. "Mom," he starts as she turns to leave the room. He can't remember the last time he's called her "mom." It's usually "mother" or even "Caroline," but "mom" feels right all of a sudden.

"Thanks," he says, the simple word failing to express the scope of his feelings.

II.

Rachel showers and washes her hair again after Santana leaves, conceding that there is no other way to get sex-hair tangles out than to start from scratch.

After watching their conversation devolve into something that he couldn't yet contribute to, Kurt had made an excuse to leave, feigning that he had just wanted to make sure Rachel was okay and the conversation was boring him. She had hugged him goodbye and whispered in his ear that she would give him the Cliff notes version he was after later, and that she was still up for helping him sneak around with Blaine.

She loves Kurt and feels guilty that she has caused his new family such turmoil, but Rachel can't help but feel that, with Santana, she has finally found the girlfriend she has always wanted. She blushes when she thinks of just how much she had shared with Santana about this morning.

Still, it's surprising how well the three of them had gotten along together. Given how her day had started out, it is ending up as one of the best days ever.

She steps into her bedroom, wrapping the towel tighter around her, and can't help but smile as she remembers the surprise that had greeted her when she had walked into her room after seeing Santana out.

Jesse had straightened up, spread the bed, and sprayed some of her favorite perfume, so that the air had smelled happy and floral. _I'll Be_ by Edwin McCain was playing on endless loop on her laptop and he had left a hand-written love letter on her pillow with the words 'Better late than never,' at the very bottom of the sheet.

She had been thoroughly confused for a second by what he meant, then realized that his preparation of her room was his small attempt at epic romance, ex post facto.

She remembers one night, back in his dorm room, when he had sung the lyrics of that song into her ear. Everything about that night had been intoxicating, his voice and hands working her body into a delicious craze. After that night, "I'll be the greatest fan of your life," had become one of her most favorite lyrics of all time, even though she had heard that song countless times before.

Leave it to Jesse St. James to rock the foundations of her world.

Her phone rings and she decides that she wants to have some fun with him.

"Asshole," she deadpans, forgoing her usual greeting as she answers his phone call. "Is this what I can expect from you now? Not returning my phone calls or texts for hours?"

He seems momentarily taken aback by her faux hostility, finding his words a beat too late. "Well I finally got what I wanted. No reason to keep up the act," he agrees.

He's made it through security and is in the departure lounge, so he has some down time before he can get on the plane. He accounts for why he has ignored her text for the last few hours, and she lets out a squeal when he tells her that he will be able to stay with his mother when he comes back to Ohio.

She feels bad for Caroline finding out about Vincent and Isabella the way she did, but, from Rachel's perspective, today really might be the best day ever.

He has to get on his plane and she makes him promise to text her as soon as he lands, telling him to say 'Hi' to New York for her.

Hiram comes in as she is braiding her wet hair, having just gotten home from the hospital. He seems hesitant and asks, "Did Jesse get off okay?" She knows that her boyfriend (or maybe Santana) is rubbing off on her when she has to swallow the double entendre that almost comes out of her mouth. He got off just fine, thank you very much.

She tells her daddy that Jesse just boarded his plane.

Hiram doesn't seem to be in a good mood, and he pierces her sunny disposition when he says that the school had left him a message saying she had not shown up for classes this morning. Of course, some people haven't been to math class in years and no one bats an eye. She skips one day after technically showing up and the world has to end.

He accuses her of skipping school to be with Jesse, and though he is technically right, the context is very important. She tells him that she had gotten slushied and egged this morning, and she thinks that Finn may be behind it after what happened at the wedding.

"I don't like this, Rachel," Hiram finally says. She doesn't know what part he is referring to, so she stays quiet. "I don't understand how the school can be okay with what is going on. I, more than anyone, know how mean and destructive children can be, and I won't stand for it."

He doesn't explain any further, except to say that he will talk to her dad, but he stops at her doorway before he leaves and turns to face her.

"Are you two using condoms?"

Rachel doesn't answer him immediately, seemingly in shock, and Hiram walks back into the room and sits back down on her bed. He's a doctor and a generally practical person so condoms have been preached to Rachel since she turned fourteen.

Finally, she nods and Hiram lets out a breath. "Good," he responds, "I would suggest you use them even after the pill becomes effective."

Rachel leans down onto her bed, burying her face in her pillow so that she is not looking directly at her daddy when she says this. "Is it that easy to tell?"

Hiram chuckles. "Well, if I had any doubts before, you just erased them. Plus, you seem excessively happy tonight. I took a guess."

"This is embarrassing," Rachel says, voice still muffled by the pillow. "I hate that you know me so well."

Hiram reaches out to squeeze her shoulder reassuringly. "Thank you for telling me," he states quietly, kissing the top of her head.

Leroy is out celebrating his trial win so she and Hiram agree to a Barbra movie and ice-cream after a simple supper.

As she is changing for bed, Jesse texts her to say that he is safely back in NY. Today was practically perfect, she just hates that she will have to face Finn tomorrow.

III.

Jesse hasn't been home twenty minutes before there is a knock on his door. It's John. He's standing there with energy drinks in one hand and a six-pack of Corona in the other. He seems to have planned for all possibilities.

Jesse doesn't invite him in, but leaves the door open and turns back to the pile of textbooks sitting on his desk.

"This album is going to be a bust," John attempts, "No one can decide what to sing."

Jesse shoots him a look and John shrugs his shoulders.

"Come on man," John relents, "What am I supposed to say? Is it so bad that I want to take this shot? I'm pretty sure the Jesse St. James that I know would do the same thing."

He would. John is 100% correct in that. In fact, when he had bitched about the situation with Rachel again yesterday, she had quietly pointed out that what he was accusing John of was basically the same thing he had done to her to secure a fourth national title.

Touché.

It doesn't mean he has to like that both of them are right, or that he has to be nice about it. He doesn't play second fiddle well, not at all, actually. They both know that. Whatever, he's an actor.

"Fine," Jesse forfeits, turning to John with a look of resigned acceptance. "You need the practice anyway," he ribs good-naturedly.

Rachel had explained to him that the best way to deal with this was to let the Coppertones crash and burn without him. She had been through the same thing with Mr. Schuester when he gave away her solos in the name of diversity. Jesse literally cringes whenever he thinks of Quinn Fabray attempting _I've Had the Time of My Life_.

Relieved, John changes the subject. "And how did operation get you laid turn out?"

Jesse smirks, and John can feel the tension lift from the room. He appears he and his friend are back on good terms again, at least for the present.

John laughs at Jesse's reaction. "Since someone looks like he ate the … canary," John finishes modestly, conscious of the unsaid dirty insinuation that they had both understood, "I take it things went well."

He reaches for two bottles of Corona and offers one to Jesse, both boys using the handles of Jesse's drawers to open the caps.

They shoot the breeze for a little bit, John filling Jesse in on what happened with the Coppertones while he was away, including that they intend to record the album the weekend before Valentine's Day, the same weekend that Jesse was supposed to go back to Ohio.

He will have to reschedule with Rachel. There is no way in hell that he is missing that recording session.

IV.

Shelby Corcoran wastes no time. She checks Will Schuester's schedule with the principal's secretary beforehand and ensures that she enters the building when all the students, including her daughter, will be in class and out of the halls.

She catches him chewing on a pen when she walks into his office unannounced.

"We need to talk."


	34. Chapter 34

I.

_Rachel Berry is in a relationship_ _with Jesse St. James_.

She updates her Facebook profile and smiles as she sees the little heart next to the simple statement. It makes her that much more willing to get up and face her day.

She shoots Jesse a text message telling him that they are official on Facebook, because he doesn't maintain a profile and won't actually be able to see it. All of the people at McKinley High will, however. She's counting on the news making its way around the school before she gets there this morning, and she's packed two extra outfits in the trunk of her car just in case.

She has nothing to hide anymore.

She makes it through the bulk of her day dry and untouched, and is almost ready to breathe a sigh of relief until Principal Figgins announces an emergency glee club meeting immediately after school.

She feels the dread rise in her stomach as she packs up her bag and makes her way to the choir room.

Unsurprisingly, Finn is standing by the door, waiting for everyone to come in and take their place. Rachel sits as far away from him as possible, but puts on her showface, folds her arms, and crosses her legs, patiently waiting for whatever he's going to throw her way.

Mr. Schuester is the last to arrive, and he looks more frazzled than usual. He actually seems surprised to see Finn standing at the head of the room. Rachel can't imagine why.

Finn doesn't wait for an intro. "As captain of this club, I called this emergency meeting to discuss Rachel's betrayal, and," he pauses, looks directly at her, "To request that we vote her out of the club."

Rachel swallows hard, tears burning at the back of her eyes. "And as _co_-captain of this club, I respectfully remind you that we don't vote members out of this club. This is a club about acceptance and anyone can join."

Finn is nonplussed. "Do I have to remind you all who Jesse St. James is?" Finn prompts the rest of the group. Mercedes snorts and Kurt shoots her a reproachful look. Rachel grips the sides of her chair until her knuckles turn white.

"He made a fool out of Rachel last year by dating her and then throwing eggs at her. He sabotaged our chances of winning Regionals. He lied to us and spied for Vocal Adrenaline and they won Nationals because he was working with them all along."

"Finn, I don't think…" Mr Schue starts to warn him, but Finn cuts him off, "And he's up to the same tricks again. Rachel may be stupid enough to spread her legs for him and let him screw her over again, but we don't have to be."

There is a collective exhale because no one in the room can believe he just went there, despite the fact that some of them think that he is right.

"So you lying to me and getting people to throw slushies at me is so much better for the club?" Rachel quips, her voice on the verge of breaking.

"Yeah, Finnocence," Santana says, jumping in, "Sounds to me like this is more about Jesse stealing your girl than anything else." Santana is filing her nails as she speaks, her casual demeanor masking the true loyalty of her words. "Speaking from experience, I think she made the right decision."

"You _would_ think that, Santana," Lauren Zizes mutters and Santana sneers.

"Rachel's right," Mr. Schue states, finally asserting himself. Rachel hears the words, but doesn't quite believe them, doesn't quite believe that the glee coach is finally standing up for her, against Finn of all people.

"You guys are teenagers," he criticizes, "And I hate to break it to you, but the chances that any of you are going to be together forever are slim to none. You're going to date each other and you're going to break up. It's a fact of life and it won't be pretty. I can't continue to let your relationships interfere with this glee club anymore. So, I'm sorry Finn, we're not voting anybody out of glee club today or ever."

Rachel manages a small quiet smile in her seat before looking up, only to see that Finn has not moved from his position in the room.

"But we do vote on captains, don't we?" Finn questions, a vindictive quality in his voice. The entire club looks to Mr. Schue who immediately deflates at the discovery of this loophole.

"Because of everything I said before," Finn continues gleefully, "Rachel should not be in charge of this glee club. She's obviously in no position to be trusted."

Finn raises his hand and the room is tense as one by one hands go up across the room: Quinn, Mike, Puck, Mercedes, Lauren, Brittany, and Sam.

Mr. Schue sighs. "All those opposed," he mutters, though the result is obvious. Rachel, Kurt, Santana, Tina, and Artie all raise their hands, outnumbered but assured in their decision.

"I'm sorry, Rachel," Mr. Schue attempts, but his effort falls short. Rachel looks away.

Finn grabs his bag and gets ready to head for the door, when Mr. Schue stops him. "Thank you for calling the meeting, Finn. I have something that I need to discuss with the club."

Finn hears the admonition in his words, and, with a furrowed brow, takes a seat in the front row.

"I received a visit from the coach of Vocal Adrenaline this morning. It seems that we are now in need of a new captain altogether because Finn is no longer eligible to compete at Regionals."

Everyone looks shocked, and Rachel goes instantly pale at the possible mention of Shelby.

"WHAT?" Finn exclaims in a high voice, which causes Puck to laugh, "How is that possible?"

_Flashback_

_He doesn't understand how Shelby Corcoran can make him feel uncomfortable in his own office, especially since she seems so effortlessly relaxed._

_Never one to dawdle, she gets right to the point – sort of. "You and I have a special relationship, Will, so I decided to come down here and give you advanced warning. If Goolsby had his way, he would have turned this into some sort of testosterone-driven shouting match." _

"_Spit it out, Shelby."_

"_Your golden boy, Finn Hudson, is ineligible to compete at Regionals, and, in effect, Nationals. He still owes Vocal Adrenaline $1200 for damaging those cars last year." _

"_I thought he agreed to pay you for them," Schue mutters, realizing that this is partly his fault for not following up, "We agreed to no legal sanctions."_

"_That's right," Shelby concurs, "If he paid. Whereas the other boy," here Shelby consults the hastily drawn up agreement with Figgins, "Puckerman has paid his half in full, Finn has only contributed $200 to his share."_

"_Now, I don't need to tell you that Finn's behavior violates Rule 22.3(F) of the National Show Choir Code, which makes him ineligible to compete in any local, regional or national show choir competition. We were willing to overlook it if he paid in full, but now almost a year has passed and he has ceased to make payments."_

"_And what about what Jesse did? And the egging? Do those count too? Schue's temper is rising, and, surprisingly, Shelby smiles. She's up for the challenge. _

_She smirks at him. "Maybe I do need to show you the rules." She reaches into her bra and pulls out the pocket-sized guide to the National Show Choir Code. At Will's raised eyebrow, she winks and explains, "This dress doesn't have pockets."_

"_Rule 22 lays out all permissible means of what the show choir world has come to label as funkification. Egging, though frowned upon, is not outlawed, but destruction of private property in excess of $500 is. The rule states that any individual undertaking such activity is barred from competition. Goolsby intends to make full use of it."_

"_What if he were to pay?" _

"_That won't appease, Goolsby. Your boy had his chance and he squandered it."_

"_He's our male lead, though. We can't possibly win without him." Will raises his eyes to meet hers, "Not that that really concerns you in any way."_

_Shelby lets out a coquettish laugh. "You know me, Will. I'm all for honest to goodness competition. If Finn is as indispensable to New Directions as you say, then prove it."_

"_Prove it?"_

"_A sing off, an audition of sorts. If he is judged your best male lead, then I will talk to Goolsby. But he has to earn it."_

_Will raises both his hands and bows to Shelby in mock worship. "I can do that."_

_Will starts to shuffle papers on his desk, subtly hinting to Shelby that it's time to go. _

_Shelby can take a hint as well as anybody. "Last thing, Will," she notes, leaving the kicker for last. "This isn't some allowance to showcase your nepotism. This is the big league. I'm talking about a legitimate, objective competition. Each judge has to be a coach of a local show choir or some other objective party, and it has to be a public concert. Audience feedback and full range of performance will be considered."_

_Shelby sits back comfortably in her chair. "Do we have a deal?"_

_End of Flashback_

"To be fair," Mr. Schuester explains, "We will do the same thing for the girls, but Finn you are the only one that has anything to lose by not winning."

"This is bullshit," Finn yells, "You know he is behind this, don't you?" he asks, pointing an accusatory finger at Rachel. "God, Rachel, how can you be this blind?"

"You brought this on yourself, Finn," Rachel replies saucily, "Jesse has nothing to do with Vocal Adrenaline anymore."

"For the record," Finn answers, addressing her, but everyone else in the room at the same time, "If I hadn't spent all summer with my cheating girlfriend, maybe I would have made enough money to pay them back for something I did in your defense. A lot of good that got me."

Mr Schuester is trying his best to ignore Finn's outburst. "Prep your solos this week, guys. We'll have our first run through on Monday and remember that you will also be judged on your full performance, choreography included."

"You know that means that Finn is screwed, right Mr. Schue?" Puck indicates. Mr. Schue shoots Puckerman a look before Finn turns around in a huff and heads towards Rachel.

"You watch," he practically shouts in her face. "I'm going to prove this is him. I can't wait to tell you that I told you so."

II.

Rachel sits at her favorite table in the library, grading one of the essay-writing exercises she assigned to Santana as part of her college-prep. The Latina is a very strong writer, and Rachel can tell that, with a little polish, she will have a great personal statement to submit with her application.

It's after school, but the truth of the matter is that she doesn't want to go home because Jesse is still in class and she doesn't want to breakdown in her room alone. Today had been really hard to get through. She had known it was coming, but having her ex-boyfriend, and the guy she had had a crush on for years, basically call her a slut in front of the club and her teacher had been a hard pill to swallow.

She had been in too much shock to formulate much of a response at the time, so she has since decided to put all of her emotion into a glorious song for the competition.

She's glad for the opportunity to finally prove her worth in front of objective judges and an unbiased audience. Her winning is a foregone conclusion.

The fact that this opportunity seemingly comes from Shelby's realm is something she chooses to ignore.

Never look gift horses in the mouth, right?

She hears a knocking against the side of one of the bookcases, and she looks up, flattered that someone thought an invasion of her privacy in the library was worthy of such a knock.

She expects Santana, maybe Kurt, but it's Tina.

"Hey," Tina says, putting her own books on the table and taking the seat across from Rachel.

"Hey," Rachel replies, "Thanks for being on my side today."

Tina shrugs, then, seemingly out of nowhere, asks, "Do you remember life before glee club?"

Rachel smiles to herself. "No, not really. It seems like forever ago."

"We used to get bullied all the time, Rachel," Tina reminds her. "That's what it was like."

"We still get slushied pretty often," Rachel counters, and both girls laugh.

"I don't get slushied as much now that I'm dating Mike," Tina admits quietly. "Mostly because it was his group of friends that was doing the slushieing. Initially, that was one of the pluses of our relationship."

Rachel nods in complete understanding, and takes out a bag of trail mix to share, putting a finger to her lips to warn Tina to be quiet. If the librarian catches them with food, they are dead.

"Did you really sleep with Jesse?"

Rachel pops an almond into her mouth and nods.

"How could you?"

Rachel's eyes widen at the unexpected judgment from the other girl, and Tina is quick to revise her statement.

"I didn't mean it like that. Mike and I still haven't. I never have before, and every time I ask myself why, I come back to the fact that I'm scared that if we don't last, he's going to go back to throwing slushies at me. How can I sleep with someone who I can't trust will never throw slushies at me again? I figured since you went through something similar with Jesse that maybe you could relate. I couldn't help but notice that Mike voted against you."

"Have you told him what you just told me? Jesse and I have had multiple fights about the trust in our relationship. He recognizes that, on some level, I still carry around what he did to me last year; that sometimes I feel insecure."

"And he's okay with that?"

"He doesn't like it and blames himself, but he understands why I feel that way. He keeps trying to make it up to me."

"How does he make it up to you?"

Rachel blushes, and Tina realizes that she may have entered TMI territory. "Never mind, you don't have to answer that. I was just being a spazz."

Over Tina's shoulder, Rachel can see Santana coming to look for her. Santana sees that Rachel is not alone and rolls her eyes at her, then winks and walks out of the library.

"I can't tell you what to do, Tina. I can just say that I'm glad that I made the decision that I did and that you should talk to Mike."

"Thanks," Tina says, "that really helps. I'm sorry you lost captain, Rachel. You were a really good one."

III.

"I gave relationship advice today," Rachel jokes to her boyfriend. They are both in desperate need of laughs after discussing what happened in the glee club meeting and her losing her captaincy. The only bright spot so far has been the competition for lead.

Jesse keeps hoping that Rachel won't notice the discomfort he is feeling as they have this conversation. Shelby had called him this afternoon and left a message detailing the plan she had set in action. He had listened to the message and then deleted it, its presence on his phone unnerving him.

"You are so not qualified," Jesse snaps back, but laughs. "Who to?"

"Tina," Rachel explains, "She loves Mike, but she doesn't really trust him because he used to be one of the jocks that bullied her. I told her about all the leaps we'd made in our relationship regarding trust."

Jesse panics quietly, but Rachel is being completely sincere. If she could see him now, she would see the guilt written clearly on his face. Right now, she's distracted enough and tired enough that she's not picking it up over the phone.

"The calendar of this contest works out perfectly, too! It means that I'll be distracted with practice and rehearsals until you get here next Friday. And you will be here to see the show! Not only will you see me win, you'll see the Finn/ Noah/ Kurt/ Artie showdown. It's a can't miss event. Then its Valentine's Day weekend and I will have both days fully planned out. I can't wait for the St. Berry Valentine's Day lovefest."

"Rach, you're babbling."

"Sorry, I'm just glad that I have something to be excited about. I can't wait until you get here."

"I have to go, Rachel. My ten minute break is up."

"Okay, I love you. Email me your song suggestions!"

"I love you, too."

He stares at the phone for a long while after he hangs up, feeling like his lies keep multiplying. He's actually on his dinner break, and he doesn't have to go back for another twenty minutes.

He suddenly drops his phone onto the couch beside him, disgusted with himself. If he had any backbone at all he would call her back right now and confess everything. At the very least he would tell her that he's not planning to go back to Lima next Friday.

He's not going to.

* * *

_**Hey everyone! Thank you so much for sticking with this story! This was a hard chapter to write, so I would love to hear what you thought of it. **_

_**A little update: I have now fully outlined the final chapters of Too Much and almost all of Campus Visit! Look for a new chapter of Charades soon as well. Now that its summer, I should have way more time to write, so hopefully I won't leave stories hanging for as long as I have been. I look forward to discovering more of my fellow authors' work as well.  
**_

_**Also, I choose to ignore Glee's second season finale. If anyone wants to rant about that, I'm more than willing to listen.**_


	35. Chapter 35

I.

She's perfectly undressed for their usual Saturday morning Skype date, a towel the only thing guarding her body from his gaze.

She wakes him up like normal, and listens to him grumble about the hour with barely contained amusement. It's become something of a routine.

The normalcy ends there, though, because he is strangely distant and seems unwilling to meet her eyes. It's been a busy week for them both. She's had rehearsals with the girls for the glee club competition, and he's been more occupied than usual with Coppertone practice and doing prop work (a campus requirement) for one of the theater group's upcoming performances.

She thinks about letting it slide and getting straight to the more fun part of their date, but she throws caution to the wind when he literally starts drumming his fingers on the keyboard of his laptop.

"Am I boring you?" Her question comes out a bit more irritated than she wants it to, but she feels like she's doing all the work here. Plus, she is sitting there practically naked and he seems _preoccupied_.

"No, of course not." He seems oblivious to her annoyance.

She makes a show of consulting her bare wrist before saying, "Because it's been about fifteen minutes and you still haven't tried to get me naked." She furrows her brow and comes to the realization at the same time that the words leave her mouth: "You haven't tried to get me naked all this week, actually." As she says it, she toys absentmindedly with the point at which her towel is gathered between her breasts.

Eventually, he seems to pick up on her tone, and meets her eyes in the camera. She's got one eyebrow raised in an obvious question.

He exhales slowly. "I'm not coming to Ohio next weekend."

"Why not?" She can't hide the obvious disappointment and the slightest bit of accusation from her voice, and she sees him flinch. She can't help it. She has been looking forward to his next visit since the moment he left the last time. Every free moment this week has been spent thinking of ways to make their first official Valentine's Day together special. She had gone as far as placing a temporary hold at a bed and breakfast for Saturday night, on the slim hope that she would figure out a way to get permission to spend the night away from home.

"That's when we're recording the album," he explains, "I have to be there."

"No you don't." It slips out before she gives herself the chance to weigh the impact of her words, but it's true. He's singing backup. He really doesn't have to be there.

"What about me showing them that by not having me sing lead that they're bound to fail?" He's using the same harsh tone, spitting her words back at her.

"Don't twist my words," she accuses him, "They _will _crash and burn without you. You don't have to be there to make that point. This is about Meg. You want to rub it in her face. You'd rather do that than come be with me."

"I have a life here, Rachel!"

His outburst seems to shock them both, but he's not done yet.

"I have school, and a job, friends, and responsibilities. My life here doesn't stop when I go back home for the weekend."

"Don't play the martyr card with me, Jesse. You're not the only one who sacrifices for this relationship. My dads have lost trust in me, I lost my place in glee club, and school has gotten even worse since I decided to be with you again. If I could, I would come to New York in a heartbeat."

"I'm sure Finn would take you back if that would make things easier for you, Rachel," he states in a sarcastically sweet tone.

"I would say the same for Meg, except she seems perfectly happy sleeping with your best friend!"

They are both flinging words like stones, the tension between them quickly reaching its boiling point.

"Just go away," she finally states, her cursor hovering over the 'End Call' button on Skype.

She clicks it right before she dissolves into tears.

II.

He's doing a great job of screwing up the best thing that's ever happened to him.

He's never considered himself a coward before, but that's the only way that he can explain his behavior just now.

He wants to call and confess the real reason behind his irritation at Rachel, wants to tell her so badly that his conversation with Shelby has been gnawing at his conscience this entire time.

The guilt in his stomach for the tears in her eyes is a welcome substitute for the fact that he can't envision what she will say or what she will do after he tells her about Shelby.

He can deal with this limbo. It reminds him of how it ended the last time: with messy eggs and confusion, no clear resolution.

Her anger is justified. He deserves it. He wouldn't be able to bear it if she called the whole thing off.

The regret and the loneliness feel all too familiar, as if his entire being had known that the happiness that Rachel brought him was only fleeting, that he didn't deserve for it to last.

Once again, he has no one to turn to. He's only ever really had himself.

As always, it will have to be enough.

III.

She thinks about calling in sick to work, but she has never been the type of woman to blow off a responsibility because of a bad day. It's perfect training for when she will be doing eight shows a week for weeks on end. Still, she's grateful for the relatively slow day at the store so she can attempt to sort through her thoughts.

Of course, she's mad. It's obvious that he had been planning on not coming back to visit her for a while and only fessed up to it when she called him on it. However, she knows him well enough to know that there is something else going on that he's not telling her, something that he had thrown hurtful barbs at her to hide.

Not knowing what that something is hurts the most and she's sick of feeling like this.

His mother walks into the music store, and she considers, not for the first time, that the universe enjoys messing with her.

Caroline St. James spots Rachel across the floor, waves at her, and promptly invites her to lunch. Rachel hesitates, explaining that she only has thirty minutes break, and she doesn't want to leave the store when it's busy.

Caroline looks around appraisingly at the four people in the store before linking her arm with Rachel's and calling to Troy, apparently an old friend, that she would have his employee back "within the hour."

Troy, hunched over a guitar display with a regular Rachel has mentally categorized as 'tattoo guy', tells Caroline to "take her time."

Sometimes, Rachel really really hates the St. James charm.

She finally confesses to Caroline over their breadbasket that she and Jesse had a major fight that morning, and it feels slightly uncomfortable to be out with his mother. Those aren't her exact words, but she's sure that Caroline gets the point.

Rachel answers, honestly, that she has no idea what caused their fight, but that it was possibly just the distance taking its toll.

She just wished that she believed it. She knows it's something more.

"Last weekend was the first time that Jesse came back to Ohio since he left for college," Caroline explains calmly when the waiter brings their drinks. "In all honesty, I never thought that he would come back, especially not for a girl."

"He hates it here," Rachel agrees, playing with her straw in her water glass. She can't believe that she's having this conversation with Jesse's mother, of all people. "I hate it here too."

Caroline seems to be scrutinizing her. "Two years will fly by before you know it. Jesse tells me that you've already got NYU eating out of the palm of your hand."

Rachel blushes at the obvious praise. "He told you that?"

Caroline nods. "I think I've spoken to my son more in the last week than I have in the past three years. He thinks I don't know him, but I do. He doesn't like needing people, and he tells himself that he'll be okay on his own. There's more of his father in him than he or I would care to admit."

"I never want him to feel like being with me is a chore," Rachel divulges. "He's already starting to resent me for bringing him back here."

"And you resent him for being there," Caroline points out quietly, "So it sounds to me like you two need to meet in the middle."

IV.

She doesn't tell anyone but Caroline about her fight with Jesse, even though she meets Kurt after work to practice their numbers for the competition, and she has dinner with her dads that night.

Her talk with Caroline hadn't solved anything. It had just made her think about how much her relationship is worth to her. She really does need to be willing to meet him halfway.

She's clearing the table from dinner while her dads sit reading the paper they hadn't had time to read that morning.

It's now or never.

"I had sex with Jesse," she declares, looking at both of them from her position at the sink.

They both lower their papers, and Hiram folds his half before resting his hands on the table.

"We used protection," Rachel continues, "Everything is fine, I just…" She breathes out and looks down before plowing onward, "I want to visit him in New York this weekend because he can't make it here, and if that's what you're worried about… I promise we will be responsible."

She feels as if she sounds like anything _but_ a responsible teenager.

"Absolutely not…" Leroy starts angrily, but Hiram cuts him off.

"Give us a minute to talk, Rachel," her daddy says, "We'll call you down if we've made a decision."

Sensing hope, Rachel bounds up the stairs.

"You knew about this?" Leroy questions Hiram through gritted teeth.

"They had sex last weekend," Hiram explains, "I wanted to ensure that they were being careful, so I asked and she told me. I figured she would tell you eventually, although this isn't exactly what I had in mind."

"I'm going to kill him."

"I'm sure Rachel is equally as complicit in this," Hiram attempts to pacify.

"So you're taking their side? What happened to protecting our sixteen year old daughter?"

"Rachel hid Shelby from us for a year. She lied to us about being intimate with Jesse in the first place. She already thinks that she is missing a mother from her life. I don't want her to get the impression that she can't talk to us about these things or that she has to sneak around. You remember what sneaking around was like, don't you? All the lies and close calls. Now imagine if either of us could have gotten pregnant."

"We were also in our twenties," Leroy distinguishes.

"With each other," Hiram points out with a chuckle, "And what about before?"

Hiram watches as a reluctant smile crosses Leroy's face.

"But I'm still not comfortable with letting her go visit him in his dorm room," Leroy states firmly, "What if he pressures her into having sex? I don't want her to think that we condone this."

"We give her all the tools she needs to make the right decisions, as always. They're going to have sex regardless of whether we let her or not."

Rachel is lying on her bed, in her pajamas, when her dads finally come upstairs.

She bites her lip as she sits up to face their decision.

"You can go," Hiram states cautiously, watching Leroy out of the corner of his eye as Rachel squeals with excitement, "On a few conditions…."

Rachel nods readily, willing to agree to anything.

"We're getting you a hotel room for both nights. Let's clarify one thing: this is _your_ hotel room, not yours and Jesse's. If you want to kick him out, if you need a safe place, if you want to be alone, that is what it is there for. This is so you can have the same level of security as if you were home with your father and I."

Rachel nods, failing to see any problem at all with their request.

"Of course, you will both continue to use protection for any sexual activity that may occur."

"Of course," Rachel concurs. "My dreams are just as important to him as they are to me, dad and daddy. He would never do anything to jeopardize that."

"This is a test case," Leroy adds, finally jumping into the conversation. "I for one can't promise that this will be a regular thing."

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," Rachel says, launching herself into Leroy's arms. Over his shoulder she whispers a special "Thank you" to Hiram, who she knows is the driving force behind this.

"I think we should have her watch the birth video you have in the cabinet," Leroy jokes, speaking to Hiram. Rachel slaps him good-naturedly on the shoulder, but he continues. "I'm too young and good-looking to be a grandfather."

V.

She stays up late that night searching for flights and hotel rooms. Just after midnight, she forwards Jesse an email with her confirmed itinerary, the words "Now are you ready to talk?" the only reference to their earlier fight.

He calls her back around 2am, when she's given up waiting for him and has already gone to bed.

"How did you do this?" he asks in disbelief, and she's glad that he doesn't sound drunk. Every scary scenario that went through her head about where he was had involved liquor, a party and the particular girl she had goaded him about.

"I'm sorry that I was being so demanding," Rachel apologizes groggily, "You're not the only one in this relationship and I'm willing to do my part."

"Rach… please don't apologize." He can't stand her being the bigger person when she has done next to nothing wrong. She's always too willing to take blame onto her own shoulders.

"I want to apologize," she states emphatically, "I don't want you to think that you're the only one that made a mistake. I said things I didn't mean this morning. I love you and I'm so sorry."

"Rach, don't. I'm the one that screwed up."

She hears the forewarning in his voice and she feels fully awake now. "What did you do?" she whispers into her phone.

She hears him sigh and the seconds feel like years with all the trepidation she feels.

"I went to see Shelby. This whole thing with Finn…"

The dial tone tells him that she gets it; He doesn't have to continue.

* * *

_**I was so glad to hear all of your rants about the season finale! I knew it was going to happen, but I still couldn't believe it happened the way it did. I almost threw something at the tv. I share many of your opinions about Finn (if you couldn't tell from my stories!) **_

_**This story only has about 2 or 3 more chapters before an epilogue! Thanks for reading and for all your great reviews!**_


	36. Chapter 36

I.

Afterward, she finds it difficult to get back to sleep.

But, surprisingly, she doesn't cry. Tonight feels different, as if the tears won't help very much, despite the fact that she's always been a crier.

This time, she's not so much angry as she is sad.

And maybe a little bit jealous.

Because Jesse can just walk up to Shelby and have a normal conversation with her, ask her to do things for him, and, what's more, Shelby will respond, she will do what he asks, she will stand up for him a heartbeat. That much is obvious now.

Rachel can't envision Shelby doing anything for her.

Clearly, he had also lied to her about it for days. That part stings, too, but its buried under a raw, more immediate pain, one that mirrors what she felt last year. What she had sworn to herself that she would never let happen again before she let Jesse back into her life.

She doesn't need the reminder of the close relationship that her boyfriend and her mother share. She remembers all too well trying to convince Shelby to come to McKinley and help coach New Directions. It had been a thinly veiled attempt at asking her to come and be her mother, a way of asking what she couldn't come right out and say.

She doesn't want to think about the fact that ultimately, Shelby had chosen Jesse and the rest of Vocal Adrenaline over her. First she had ignored the hurt and lost herself in Finn, but eventually, she had put her resentment aside when Jesse had chosen to be with her.

She had gained more confident when she had expressed his displeasure at Shelby, and stood up to Shelby for her in a way that she couldn't.

As horrible as it sounds, she had thought that Jesse had chosen sides the second time around, and that she had won.

She's reminded again that she never wins, least of all with Shelby.

She has tried twice now to build a relationship with Shelby and failed. Her dads have always said that the definition of stupidity is doing the same thing twice and expecting a different result. She hates being stupid.

Again, she had absorbed the hurt, had labeled Shelby a coward, and decided that it would be a long time before she went down that road again.

Given his reputation, everyone had assumed that Jesse would cheat on her, himself included. Despite her doubts about her looks and her lack of experience, somehow she had always been confident that he wouldn't. He would never give up everything they had for some cheap, short-lived thrill with someone else.

However, she had always been insecure about Shelby, about him and Shelby, and their role in her life. Of all the things in the world he could have done, it had to be this.

Even if she and Jesse hadn't exactly had specific conversations about it, he should have known that Shelby was off limits, and Rachel just wasn't ready to deal with her as yet.

Hadn't he promised her and her dads as much? She thinks he did know and he did it anyway.

She doesn't know what to do with that.

She wonders if he doesn't really know her as well as she thought he did.

For all of Sunday, she ignores his texts, phone calls, and emails. Ultimately, she turns off her phone and forces herself to read Jane Eyre, which had been the first in a list of books she had made it her New Year's resolution to read before Jesse came back into her life.

She just needs time to figure this out, time away from him.

Her dads can sense the drastic change. Last night she had been ecstatic at the thought of New York and Jesse this weekend. This morning, she's quiet and thoughtful, spending all day in her pajamas, not even bothering to shower.

They come in periodically to check on her, making sure to tell her that they are available to talk whenever she needs to.

There's no use in pretending there is nothing wrong, so she nods and says she will seek them out when she's ready. She won't, though. Not yet. She's not sure that the problem really is about her and Jesse anymore. She thinks it might just be with her.

Plus, she knows its not going to be pretty if she tells them that that Jesse contacted Shelby behind all of their backs.

They will without a doubt forbid her from seeing him, and, even with all of this, she knows that's not what she wants.

If she has to make that decision, she will make it on her own terms.

II.

Later in the evening, the sadness disappears behind a newfound mask of anger, and she asks her dads for permission to go out with her friends. Though they are surprised at her sudden transformation from broody bookworm to party animal, they allow her to go.

She uses the house phone to tell Santana and Kurt to meet her at the karaoke bar in the next town, using the excuse that they should all practice their performances for the first run through of the show tomorrow.

For a split second, she considers inviting Tina as well, but decides against it. After all her talk about Jesse and the trust in their relationship, she really can't face the girl right now, can't bear to hear what decisions she has inspired with regards to Mike.

And, by some crazy logic, if she does choose to explain the reason behind her weird mood tonight, she's pretty sure that, together, her two friends are the perfect combination to keep her mind off the one-sided fight that she's currently in with her boyfriend. Santana will be able to empathize with the boy drama behind it, and Kurt will be good with the emotional baggage that she's sifting through.

She purposely leaves her phone on her desk, and says a quick prayer that there is no emergency whereby anyone other than Jesse will need to reach her tonight.

Thankfully, both her friends are up for the occasion, and don't ask too many questions while she selects songs for them that, in her expert opinion, will perfectly prepare their voices to sing tomorrow.

Rachel thinks that Santana senses more than she is letting on, but, she, to her credit, is willing to wait until Rachel is ready to talk. Kurt, on the other hand, has always been more direct, willing to irritate the answer out of her.

"What did he do?" he wants to know.

She shakes her head at him, continues writing her song selection on the tiny slip of paper.

"Rachel," he scolds, "You're going to have to tell me sooner or later."

She thinks that Kurt is used to the types of problems she used to have with Finn: forgotten dates, or misplaced words, a general lack of support. She doesn't know how to explain that she literally can't think, can't breathe without hurting, doesn't really know how to put that into words.

"Sing, Kurt," she instructs, choosing to ignore his previous comment.

He huffs and walks off towards the DJ's booth with the stack of song requests.

Santana sits down next to her after Kurt walks off. "Did he screw someone else?"

Rachel closes her eyes, and does her best to calm the ache in her gut at Santana's words. After last week, the thought of Jesse being with anyone else like that makes her sick.

She wishes it really was that easy, that clear cut.

She shakes her head and Santana continues. "Good, because if this is about Finn, Rachel, you should be thanking him."

Rachel keeps her head down so that she doesn't glare at Santana like she wants to. On some grander scale of things, she might be right, but Rachel is not willing to concede that point just yet.

"As if it wasn't obvious," Santana mutters, a bit put off by Rachel's lack of a reaction.

Kurt comes back and all three of them order dinner. Rachel is about half way through her salad when the DJ calls her name, though its not accompanied by a song she had requested for herself.

She shoots Kurt a disbelieving look. She definitely does not want to sing that song tonight.

"I might have made some tweaks to the set list," Kurt admits, "Go on. It will be good for you."

It takes her so long to get up to the stage that the audience starts chanting her name, aided in large part by Kurt.

Never one to disappoint, she takes a deep breath as the music cues. She's an actress, she tells herself, and she can fake the confidence she needs to do this particular song.

_First I was afraid  
I was petrified  
Kept thinking I could never live  
without you by my side  
But I spent so many nights  
thinking how you did me wrong  
I grew strong  
I learned how to carry on  
and so you're back  
from outer space  
I just walked in to find you here  
with that sad look upon your face  
I should have changed my stupid lock  
I should have made you leave your key  
If I had known for just one second  
you'd be back to bother me_

_Go on now go walk out the door_  
_just turn around now_  
_'cause you're not welcome anymore_  
_weren't you the one who tried to break me with goodbye_  
_you think I'd crumble_  
_you think I'd lay down and die_  
_Oh no, not I_  
_I will survive_  
_as long as I know how to love_  
_I know I will stay alive_  
_I've got all my life to live_  
_I've got all my love to give_  
_and I'll survive_  
_I will survive_

She finishes the song and walks calmly off stage amidst loud cheers and a few catcalls. She may seem fine on the outside, but she knows now what a mistake that was. Her head and her heart are pounding with shame, guilt, or remorse, she's not entirely sure. Tears burn at the corner of her eyes.

She can see Kurt standing at their table videotaping with his phone and cheering for her while Santana looks more contemplative, clapping almost politely as she follows Rachel's path off the stage with her eyes.

On her way back to the table, however, Rachel is interrupted by some 40-year old pervert who calls her 'Honey' and tries to touch her hair.

"I don't fucking think so," a familiar male voice yells, pulling her to safety, but away from Santana and Kurt towards the front doors of the restaurant.

"That was quite a performance, Berry," Noah Puckerman says, once he's gotten her outside and out of reach of her admirer, "Things not 100% kosher with St. Jackass?"

"Not now, Noah," she attempts, trying to get out of his strong grip and make her way back inside. "I appreciate your efforts on my behalf against that depraved individual, but I'm fine, and I don't require any further assistance."

She doesn't think that her teary, broken voice manages to convince him.

"You know it doesn't have to be this hard, right?" he asks as she leaves, and his words are oddly insightful.

He stops her cold and she turns almost reluctantly, because its one of the questions that she's been asking herself all day. Are things really supposed to be this difficult with Jesse? Is it really supposed to hurt this much?

Isn't love supposed to be grand and happy and epic?

She sees it coming for a whole two minutes beforehand, but when he moves to kiss her, she doesn't stop him. She doesn't help him either.

She just stands there frozen as flesh meets flesh, and that's it, she's thrown away everything she had with her boyfriend for some cheap, short-lived thrill with someone else.

She can feel herself die a little bit inside.

She dies a bit more when she hears Santana, who is closely followed by Kurt, call out, "What the hell are you doing?" because she's obviously just witnessed what Rachel is trying very hard to wipe from her consciousness.

It is only then that she realizes that she just kissed Puck, and that Puck is doubly bad because he's Santana's whatever, and he's also definitely not her boyfriend.

She starts to hyperventilate and flees to her car, mumbling an apology to Santana as she passes her.

Now the tears start to flow.

* * *

_**I went back and forth as to whether to post this or not, because its so short, but I think this chapter needs to stand on its own. I should have the confrontation scene up soon.  
**_

_**A little hint for the next chapter: Kurt sends Jesse the video of Rachel singing I Will Survive.**_

_**I would love to hear what you think of this chapter. I might have to up the rating for the story in the next one ;-)  
**_


	37. Chapter 37

She's back to hating him by the time school ends the next day.

There had been a sliver of hope for him after what she did with Noah yesterday. She had listened to Jesse's voicemails and read the text messages she had neglected, intent on forging some path to forgiveness.

She gets over that very quickly when Coach Sylvester, Jewfro and Finn come to glee club with a multimedia showcase of Jesse's alleged dealings with Shelby, complete with time-stamped photos and phone records.

Finn thinks he's got her, but she spins a convincing tale of Jesse keeping up with his former coach about scholarship opportunities. "It could mean anything," she argues, knowing that she is wrong, "This proves nothing."

In fact, it proves everything.

If she didn't already know it for a fact, she could tell by Noah's knowing smirk in her direction, or Santana's bored eye roll.

She prays for time to pass, and, when it finally does, she runs to the single user bathroom where she usually changes before ballet practice.

She knows he's in class and holds her breath until his voicemail message kicks in, thinking that God may just be on her side today.

There are curses and sobs and moments of stunned silence where words fail her. She manages to get out the single thought that had plagued her since Finn had made his stupid presentation: Jesse had abruptly left her bed after their first time together to go and speak to Shelby; he had foregone hours with her at the airport in favor of conspiring with her mother.

The reality probably isn't as sinister as it sounds in her head, but she's having a hard time letting those feelings go.

So she lets his phone have it and then decides to dance it off.

She can't see herself in the mirror through the thoughts in her head, but she does see him the minute he walks into the studio. She stops mid-jump, landing awkwardly on her feet.

He slides the strap of his bag off his shoulder and there is a solid thud as it meets the wood floor.

She stops moving altogether and slides her sweaty palms down her tights-clad thighs. "I just left you a voicemail," she says and she thinks she sounds calm, "I have nothing left to say."

She watches in the mirror, her back to him, as he reaches into the left hand pocket of his coat and withdraws his phone, holding it on his palm with his arm extended in front of him.

"It's still off from the flight," he explains and, surprisingly, she can't read his tone. "Want to start at the end for me?"

She hates that he knows her so well, that he's picked up on the things that comfort her, the things that make her who she is to the people she loves and who love her back.

He's one of those people, and it means that he has the power to do … _this_ to her.

"I don't remember my exact words," she says with authority, "But I'm sure it boiled down to go fuck yourself."

He lets out a soft breathy laugh at her choice of words, his chin dipping down towards his chest so that he's looking at the floor, though she thinks she can read misplaced pride on his face at the boldness she's displaying.

It annoys her that he's getting enjoyment of this.

"And the beginning?" he presses on.

She's silent for a minute, swallows loudly, but it doesn't matter, her voice breaks anyway. "How could you?" she asks, turning to face him for the first time since he entered the room.

"I had to."

To say it's an unsatisfactory response is an understatement.

She laughs mockingly, shaking her head to herself. "Because you're Jesse St. James and the world just has to revolve around you."

He doesn't know quite how to respond to that. For better or worse, it doesn't seem like she expects him to. He does anyway.

"It revolves around us."

Before she can slip back into her show face, her brow furrows, because she doesn't know what that's supposed to mean.

He begins to approach her and she holds her arm out in front of her in a halting motion, palm hitting him in the chest when he manages to get too close. "Don't."

"Rachel, please."

She shakes her head and doesn't raise her gaze until she sees his feet reach the wall by the door.

But instead of walking through the door and out of her life, he takes a couple of steps to his right, turns and slides down the wall until he is sitting on the floor, knees pulled up to his chest, watching her.

She folds her arms across her chest and glares at him. In response, he puts his phone beside him on the floor, lays both his hands casually on his knees.

It's obvious that he's not planning on going anywhere for a while.

For a long time, she stands in the middle of the floor, feeling trapped, but having every possible escape at her disposal.

Finally, she moves towards her bag and she can feel his eyes on her every move. She grabs the handle of her tote, intent on leaving, but at the last minute she rifles through it, recovering her Ipod, and plugging it into the speaker in the corner of the room.

The instrumental starts and she makes her way back to centerstage.

He senses that something important is about to happen, and he shrugs out of his coat, at the same time that the words to the song start.

_You took your coat off and stood in the rain,  
You're always crazy like that._

He meets her eyes in the mirror as he gets his coat off, wondering if there is anyway at all that she could have planned this.

Maybe it was written.

She begins to dance, and he can tell that this is not choreographed, which makes it that much more beautiful, that much more wounding.

The words of the song, her deliberate movements, and the tears that are in her eyes hit him like a punch to the gut, over and over again.

_And I watched from my window,  
Always felt I was outside looking in on you.  
You're always the mysterious one with  
Dark eyes and careless hair,  
You were fashionably sensitive  
But too cool to care.  
You stood in my doorway, with nothing to say  
Besides some comment on the weather._

Well in case you failed to notice,  
In case you failed to see,  


_**This is my heart bleeding before you,  
This is me down on my knees, and...**_

These foolish games are tearing me apart,  
And your thoughtless words are breaking my heart.  
You're breaking my heart.  
_  
You're always brilliant in the morning,  
Smoking your cigarettes and talking over coffee.  
Your philosophies on art, Baroque moved you.  
You loved Mozart and you'd speak of your loved ones  
As I clumsily strummed my guitar._

Well, excuse me, guess I've mistaken you for somebody else,  
Somebody who gave a damn,  
Somebody more like myself.

These foolish games are tearing me apart,  
_And your thoughtless words are breaking my heart.  
You're breaking my heart.  
_

Jewel sings the last chorus "You're breaking my heart," repeating over and over again, and it is here that Rachel stops, chest heaving, letting the words of the song speak for her.

The instrumental fades and he doesn't know what to say to fill the silence.

He gets to his feet, but stays by the wall, unwilling to face her rejection again.

"Let's hear it, then," she whispers across the distance between them, "Your grand apology."

"I'm not here to apologize to you, Rachel," he states quietly.

She huffs, moves back towards her bag, and this time she's ready to leave.

"I take that back," he reconsiders, thankful that she stops, "I apologize for lying to you. It was stupid of me to try, because I _can't_ lie to you. I don't think I could survive the guilt again, and our bank account wouldn't survive the cost of the plane tickets."

He's hoping for a smile to match his own, but he gets nothing.

"And I suppose I did have ulterior motives. The thought of Finn finally being judged to an objective standard in the performing world held some attraction, I must admit…."

She cuts him off, asking in disbelief: "You think this is about Finn?"

He does a double take, using the opportunity to move towards her.

She's really crying now. "How could you go to her and not even realize what that would mean? My mother won't even talk to me and you just ask her to interfere with my life and you don't see anything wrong with that?"

He takes a deep breath, finally realizing how deep this wound had really cut.

"She's not your mother," he states quietly, but confidently.

Rachel gives him a look. "Really?" she scoffs, "Do you need a reminder of everything that happened last year?"

He reaches for her, hands holding her hips and bringing her closer, marveling, as always, at just how tiny she is.

He's surprised but thankful that she's letting him do this.

"She's not your mother," he repeats, "She doesn't deserve the title. Even my own mother stood up for me with my dad." He pauses. "I asked Shelby because I knew that she could do this, that as the coach of Vocal Adrenaline she had the resources to do this, and I wanted to teach Finn a lesson after what he did to you. It had nothing to do with last year."

"It's always going to be about last year," she insists.

He makes a noise of disagreement, which draws her attention to his eyes.

"I've been thinking a lot about this Rachel," he starts slowly, "And I won't keep apologizing for last year and I won't apologize for this. I will never apologize for constantly pushing you further, for challenging you, or for giving you opportunities. Whether its showing you the incredible rush of an impromptu concert in a bookstore, trying to give you the mother you never had, or…" his voice takes on a slow, suggestive whisper, "Or whether its coaxing your body into its first orgasm or teaching you the art of lovemaking. That's the only way I know how to be your boyfriend. I **will** make mistakes. We **will **have fights like this, but that's who I am. I won't apologize for that."

"That's how I know how to love you," he concludes, stroking the side of her face with his thumb.

The air around them is thick with tension, and the mirrors that surround them on all sides add to it. They can see each other from every angle, unable to hide.

It's hurried and raw when they meet in the middle, him pulling her almost painfully against his body as she bites at his lips. Its dangerous and intense and the most alluring thing she has ever felt.

He's got her up on one of the studio's railings, her back flush against he cool mirror and she honestly doesn't care who could walk in and catch them. He spots the door to the storage closet and carries her over to it, shutting the door behind them. His mental functions may be limited, but he figures that will buy them just enough privacy to do this.

Neither of them last very long and it's almost comical. He's still breathing hard against her when she shrugs off the layer she has on over her tank top and wipes at the mess on her thigh from where he had hurriedly pulled out, thankfully remembering before it was way too late that they were unprotected.

He's apologizing continuously as she holds the soiled shirt, and as her faculties come back to her, she realizes that this shouldn't be happening.

Not like this.

This just reminds her of how reckless with her feelings she is with him, how much pain could stem from their relationship.

She reaches up to caress his cheek to comfort him, kisses him quickly on the lips. "Jesse, it's okay."

She's not sure if it is.

They both make themselves presentable again and head back out to face the harsh lights of the studio, the unforgiving reflections of the mirrors. She awkwardly stuffs her ruined shirt into her bag.

Jesse looks defeated as he reaches out to hug her, as if he knows that what just happened was more bad than good. She's not sure what she's about to say when Mr. Schue, Finn, and Puck walk into the room, Puck carrying a boombox.

No one speaks until Puck breaks the silence, "You sure do get around, don't you, Berry?"

She's aware that Jesse is looking at her, waiting for the biting response she would usually have to that type of inappropriate comment, but she can only look down, ashamed.

She feels the exact moment he recognizes that there is something else, because his arms noticeably slacken around her waist.

"This room is obviously taken," Mr. Schue states in an even tone, mindful of the discomfort in the studio. "We'll find somewhere else to practice." He leads the boys out, grabbing Finn by the shoulder when it becomes obvious he doesn't want to leave.

She waits for their footsteps to retreat down the hall before she confesses: "I let Puck kiss me last night."


	38. Chapter 38

After her revelation, he doesn't say anything, which makes her feel a thousand times worse than she already does.

She watches in silence as he runs a hand through his hair and goes to retrieve his bag from its position against the wall.

It's the unnatural order of things for _him_ to be mad at _her._

"Jesse," she attempts, but he shakes his head, abruptly cutting off anything she's about to say.

He walks past her towards the door to the hallway, and only when she is behind him does he finally address her.

"Let's go."

She's more than a little surprised that he wants her to come with him, but she doesn't question it, grabbing her bag and struggling to get her coat on as she follows him out into the parking lot.

He stops at the driver's side of her car, and, though she normally would put on a faux feminist rant about him just assuming that he would drive her, she hands over her keys without debate, watching quietly as he adjusts the seat so that it can accommodate him.

She has so many things she wants to say, and the urge to make things right between them again is almost too great. She doesn't like being the target of his anger or disappointment. She's come to realize that his opinion means more to her than anyone else's.

She also knows that he's a harsh critic.

The drive to wherever they are going is silent, there's not even music, and she worries that she's missing _her_ grand opportunity to explain and to apologize about what she did last night.

Somehow, however, she can't bring herself to start.

He's got both hands firmly on the wheel, which is unusual, because the streets of Lima require little to no skill to navigate, and generally when they drive together one of his hands is usually preoccupied with her.

He pulls into the parking lot of the drugstore and kills the engine, quickly jumping out of the car. He utters his first words to her since they left the school, telling her that it would be better if she stayed. She frowns and quits halfway in her attempt to get her seatbelt unbuckled, slamming her body back into the soft seat and huffing in frustration as he walks away.

She's tuning the radio when he returns about ten minutes later. It doesn't look like he's carrying anything at all but, when he gets back into the car, he tosses a small box onto her lap.

She scrunches up her face in confusion until she reads the label: Plan B, the "morning after" pill.

Instinctively, she takes a deep breath to quell the dread that runs through her, but what comes out is more of a sob than an exhale.

There's something about the callous way he threw the package at her, and maybe it's the fact that she told him thirty minutes ago that she kissed someone else, but he's making her feel like some sort of slut.

Or maybe she's making herself feel that way, she's not sure. The cold hard reality is that she never expected to find herself in this kind of situation.

All of a sudden, everything just seems too much.

If you had asked her before today, she would have told you without hesitation that she was smarter than this, on all accounts.

She brings her knees up on to the seat and covers her face with her hands, forcing herself to breathe.

"Rach, hey," she hears him say soothingly, and she can tell that despite all the hostility, he is truly concerned. "Rach, I promise you that it's okay, but I don't want us to take any chances. It's just a precaution."

She should be more worried about a potential pregnancy, however remote the possibility, than the fact that she kissed someone else.

She kissed someone else and she told him about it, and he has yet to respond.

She removes her hands from her face and attempts to grab his hand, which is hovering near her temple.

"I'm sorry," she whispers, the words sounding more like a plea than an apology.

He exhales loudly and looks out the window of the car, dropping the hand that was joined with hers.

"What the hell were you thinking?" The harsh tone he uses causes her to jump in her seat, even though she was expecting it.

"I wasn't thinking," she admits. "I was hurt and angry and he fed me a line, and it just happened."

"It didn't just happen and you know it," he accuses. "Not again."

The accusation in his words is crystal clear and discomfortingly familiar. He still hasn't forgotten about her dalliance with musical promiscuity last year.

"It didn't mean anything."

"You want out of this, Rachel, tell me. Right now." He states it matter-of-factly, looking calmly out ahead of him, as if any answer she gives him will be accepted without hesitation.

He makes it sound like it would be so easy for him to walk away, to leave her, to hurt her, when it is literally the most painful thing that she can imagine herself doing. Sometimes she even thinks leaving him would be for the best. God knows it would save her a lot of hurt, and she still can't bring herself to do it.

"Would it really be that easy for you to leave me?" She's always chided herself on being a little too honest with him, but she can't help it.

He's half best friend, half lover. She realizes that she can't necessarily choose between the two roles.

She's aware that it's almost _too_ honest of question and it escapes without permission, but she desperately needs the answer. She can hear the unspoken entreaty in her words: tell me what I mean to you, tell me that this feels the same for you, tell me that you're scared, and, then, after that, please, please show me.

He flexes his fingers against the steering wheel. "It would kill me."

That sounds pretty accurate.

She's aware that this conversation is way too serious for a deserted parking lot in the middle of the afternoon.

"I think I need some time," she says quietly.

He turns to face her, and she can see worry etched into his gaze. Neither of them really expected it to come to this.

She swallows guiltily. "I just … I need to be as secure in this relationship when we're fighting as when you're making love to me."

She forces herself to meet his eye. "I'm not there yet."

He lets out a low, ironic chuckle. "And our romp in the studio didn't convince you that it's all one and the same?"

She laughs for what feels like the first time in years, though its short and strained. "It was highly instructive, I'll admit, but it also led us to this …" She gestures to the conspicuous package that has fallen beside her on the seat.

He lets out a breath as the tone turns somber again. "I'm really sorry about that, Rachel. I've never… I just couldn't forgive myself if…"

"I know."

He nods in response, the words unnecessary. They've talked about it, and, though he would leave the ultimate decision up to her, neither of them wants to be saddled with that sort of responsibility right now.

"We can't keep doing this, Jesse. As much as I want the epic romance you promised, I want a stable relationship more. One where I'm not constantly holding my breath or wondering how we're going to screw this up, or…," she tilts her head, "… Actually screwing this up."

She reaches over to him and runs a hand through his curls. "You mean too much to me for that."

He nods again, and raises his own hand to her palm as it rests against his cheek.

"Thank you for coming today. I just have a lot of stuff to work through: Shelby, my dads, whatever happened last night, _me_. I want to be that person for you too," she concludes without further clarification, knowing that he will understand her reference back to his earlier anti-apology.

He nods once more, and his lack of words starts to scare her. She nudges his thigh with her left foot.

"Hey," she says, trying to refocus his attention on her and not on the dark thoughts that she knows are swirling around in his head. "I love you and I don't want to be with anyone else. I want this to work."

"How long?"

It's a fair question, but she doesn't have a straight answer for him. She just needs time. Knowing her, it could be twelve hours but it could also be weeks or months. She thinks that is what he's getting at without stating it outright.

"I don't know. I'll let you know if I can make it this weekend," she admits timidly, refusing to look at the disappointment on his face.

He drives to the airport so that he can catch a flight back to New York on standby. At the departure drop-off, she moves to switch to the driver's side of her car and he grabs her arm and pulls her towards him.

He looks her dead in the eye. "Don't kiss anyone else."

He's trying not to be combative, she can tell, but she still reads the hurt in his tone.

"I swear I won't."

She still feels ashamed and remorseful, and, after she swears it to him, she has to brush tears out of her eyes.

"Remember our bet?" he questions, "That was strike one."

She vaguely remembers him trying to assure her of her sex appeal and beauty by betting her that he would shave his head if three guys didn't ask her out the next time she visited him at NYU.

She doesn't know how she can still be unsure of someone that has so much faith in her and in them.

It's on the tip of her tongue to tell him that she won't need the other two strikes, but, given what happened with Noah, she doesn't want him to call her bluff.

She settles for kissing him and telling him that she loves him before watching him walk morosely out of her life again.

II.

She asks Santana to meet her at Breadsticks immediately after she leaves Jesse at the airport so that she can formally apologize to the other girl about what happened with Puck.

She's making a conscious effort to sort through all the mess in her life.

Even with the promise of her beloved unlimited breadsticks, it takes Rachel offering to pay and her confession that she had sex on school property to get Santana across from her in the booth.

Mercifully, Santana seems to be one of the few girls that believes that Puck was as wrong as Rachel was in how things played out. All things considered in girl world, Rachel is probably getting off easy.

"I don't think that I'm the one that you should be apologizing to," Santana points out.

"I told him," Rachel says, playing with the straw in her glass of water. "He wasn't happy."

"Understandable," Santana comments. "It was a pretty crappy thing to do."

There is silence for a few minutes until Rachel whispers: "He makes me do things that I never thought I would do."

"Like jump him in a storage closet," Santana interjects wickedly.

Rachel rolls her eyes, but nods. "The only thing I've wanted my entire life is to be a star. My goals and dreams define me. They color my every working moment. And I would give them up in a heartbeat for him. I would do anything for him, and it scares me."

"Because he makes you _want _to jump him in a storage closet?"

Santana laughs at the look Rachel gives her. "Sorry but it's going to be weeks before I stop giving you shit for that one. But seriously, are you worried he doesn't feel the same way?"

Rachel looks like she is considering an answer, so Santana continues. "Because, Berry, he flew hundred of miles to get you back and have sex with you in a storage closet. My guess is that he does."

"I know he does," Rachel states without hesitation.

"Then what's the problem?" Santana asks in a bored tone.

Rachel is quiet, because how can she explain to Santana that being with Jesse is challenging every fiber of her being? That, for the first time in her life, she's found something she loves more than performing, more than being the center of attention. That she would sacrifice her own goals, her own dreams for him without question. She loves that they are both devoted to Broadway and theater, but she would seriously consider moving to some town even smaller than Lima if he asked her tomorrow to marry him and settle down somewhere to have gorgeous curly-haired babies.

She knows that he would never ask, never compromise her dreams, but the traitorous thoughts are enough to unhinge her, to make her question her dedication to all that has been important to her forever.

Because Jesse is hurt and pain, but equal parts love and desire. The formerly sensible part of her is resisting his intrusion, mindful of allowing someone that much say in her life, especially someone who has his own headstrong goals and opinions.

"Because it hurts," she concludes weakly, and it is Santana's turn to roll her eyes as she signals for the waitress to bring them more breadsticks.

III.

Her dad is a lot more helpful.

He corners her when she gets home from work one evening. Hiram is working a late shift at the hospital, and she knows that Leroy staked out in the kitchen to force her to talk to him about what's been going on with her these past few days.

She doesn't tell him everything, but he listens to her and after she tells him that she told Jesse she needed a break, he says, "I see."

"What do you see?" Rachel teases.

"I see that my daughter is in her first relationship and she's freaking herself out," Leroy states pointedly, knowing exactly that his tone of voice will make his daughter erupt.

"I was with Finn for six months!" Rachel protests. "Jesse's not my first boyfriend."

Leroy laughs. "Do you remember when you were in the second grade and you came home and told us that you chose Nicholas to be your boyfriend and we explained to you that it took two people to be in a relationship, and that you couldn't just make Nicholas your boyfriend because you wanted him to be?"

Rachel nods bleakly, sensing the connection and not looking forward to it.

"I'm pretty sure that this is the first time you've been in a relationship with another person who actually contributes to it. This isn't just you planning dates or choosing songs. This is compromise and growth. You can't expect that to be easy, ladybug."

Rachel opens her mouth to retort, but Leroy beats her to it. He seems to be enjoying himself.

"And boy, did you choose your match. Jesse is just as stubborn, just as dramatic, just as arrogant as you are. Makes for some interesting fireworks."

"I thought you hated Jesse," Rachel tries, lamely, to counter-argue.

"I'm probably never going to be fond of any guy that you're dating," Leroy says bluntly, "But its obvious that he cares for you, and I can at least respect that he treats you right. Your father seems fully convinced about the two of you. Trust me to be a bit more cynical."

"Jesse's never been in a relationship either," Rachel puts forward, "And he seems so good at this. He always knows the right things to do or say, even when things get rough."

"You expect too much, sweetheart. You've always had your head filled with romantic gestures, and perfect storylines. Guy meets girl and living happily ever after, no matter what. You tried that with Finn and look how that turned out."

"Let me finish," Leroy interrupts when Rachel is about to butt in. This is often how conversations go in this family; each of them eager to get a word in to completely annihilate the other's point.

"That night I drove Jesse home, I could tell that he is wary about relationships. He saw his own parents' marriage fall apart and he recognizes that relationships aren't easy, that they involve a lot of give and take. He didn't go into this with the same expectations that you have. He knows that this is going to be hard work. He is willing to make the effort because you are the best thing that ever happened to him."

Leroy holds up his hands. "His words, not mine."

Rachel blushes and forgets what she wanted to say in response.

"The way I see it, sweetheart, I don't know if Jesse is the one. You're sixteen, and for all I know, there may be dozens of boys in your future. But I would hate for you to turn your back on this one because you were too scared to see it through. If I allowed you to give up, I would have done a great disservice to you as a father, and to Jesse."

"I'll take all of this under advisement," Rachel states diplomatically, but she has a smile on her face.

"I have another life lesson," Leroy states smugly, going to the stove to put the kettle on for tea. "Just one more for the road."

"By all means," Rachel mocks.

"It took me a long time to figure out the key to relationships, Rachel. And now I pass it down to you."

Rachel stares at him intently, not knowing if Leroy is still playing, especially since he concluded his sentence with a low bow.

"It all comes down to the small things. In your case, Jujubes."

"Jujubes?" Rachel asks, puzzled. They've been her favorite candy since she first watched Dirty Dancing at age eight.

"Your father and I used to be the only ones that knew about your intense and completely illogical detestation of green Jujubes, because, frankly honey, they all taste the same, but I'm guessing that Jesse is in on the secret too?"

Rachel nods, and tries to fight her blush. She will never reveal to anyone the context in which she and Jesse had that conversation.

Leroy tells her that he had noticed when Jesse came for movie night that she had offered him a handful of Jujubes and he had eaten all the green ones off her palm.

"There are going to be so many times that you hate each other, or things go wrong in life and you've had a bad day, or work is torture, and you'll come home and it will be the small things. He'll eat all the green jujubes so you won't have to, or he'll fix a cup of coffee exactly the way you like it without you having to ask, or he'll say the perfect thing, and nothing else will matter. Those things are the hardest to remember, but I promise you they mean the most."

"Jujubes? Rachel asks sarcastically. "That's your great advice?"

"Jujubes," her dad confirms, "Have I ever led you astray before?"

IV.

She fights herself for a long while, but around midnight she gives in.

_I miss you_, she texts.

It takes all of four seconds for him to respond: _I miss you too_.

* * *

_**A couple of notes:**_

_**1. I need suggestions for an epic J/R duet. Only requirement is that it has to have a cheesy romantic chorus or title. It will all make sense later.  
**_

_**2. I am a stickler for birth control. Plan B is a great last resort option. Although Jesse gets it for Rachel here the day they have unprotected sex, it can work for up to 5 days after sexual activity depending on the brand (consult a medical professional or pharmacist).  
**_

_**3. Thanks for being a great audience. Although chapters keep getting added, the end really is near. As always, I would love your feedback.**_

**_4. I have a minor obsession with Dirty Dancing, and my version of Rachel does too._**

5. _**I will update Charades very soon. I am so sorry for the delay! Life got crazy and I couldn't leave Jesse & Rachel in so much angst here. It weighed on my conscience. ****Next chapter is much happier**_.

By Thursday night, Rachel thinks that the universe is rooting for her and Jesse to reunite.


	39. Chapter 39

I.

The bartender shoots him a look, because who in the world comes to a strip club and orders "a bottle of water"?

Well, he's not here for the girls, and definitely not for the liquor (though his fake id might indicate otherwise), but if you were to ask him why he was there, he wouldn't be able to explain.

He thinks, in some screwed up way, that Rachel, of all people, would just _get it_.

He rationalizes that if she's allowed to kiss someone else, he's at least allowed to look.

He ignores the part of his brain that keeps telling him that he could have had any girl on campus, and he came to this cheesy hellhole intentionally, so that he actually _wouldn't _be tempted.

The redhead stage left winks at him and he's not the least bit surprised when she sidles up to him after the last beats of "It's Raining Men" fade away.

He's slouched back on a couch and she straddles both his legs, gyrating her hips even though no part of her is actually touching him.

"I'm Ginger," she purrs.

Original, he thinks sarcastically, before he gives her a practiced smile.

She's wearing some sort of corset top and she loosens the string a few more levels until there isn't much keeping her ample cleavage from his view.

"Like what you see?" she asks, in the same breathy voice, as she reaches for his hand to give him a free preview.

In his defense, she's the one who asked. It's not his fault that the frown automatically appears on his face.

Because, no, he doesn't like what he sees. There's glitter in weird places and its obviously fake, and all he can think of is the angle of Rachel's hips, the perfect curve of her body as it goes from her torso to her stomach and then lower.

He's not generally one to use such crass language, but Rachel has a bangin' body.

He loves that he's the only one that really knows that. He knows that she loves it, too, because she's told him in words, sounds, moans … whatever.

'Ginger' seemingly takes the hint, but not before 'accidentally' bumping his hand where it rests on his thigh so that his uncapped bottle tips a steady stream onto his crotch.

He considers going after her. He came here for a reason after all (whatever it may be) but he's stopped cold by a faint buzzing from his jean pocket that is more stimulating than anything he's witnessed tonight.

_I miss you_.

He responds immediately. Does this girl even know what she does to him?

_I miss you too_.

He stares at the screen as he makes his way out of the club, waiting for her to text back.

She doesn't, but he calls her once he's across the street, and he doesn't feel quite as guilty. He's out of the club but the music is still plainly audible each time someone opens the door.

He can admit to himself that he's two-faced and a coward, and he knows he will never ever tell her where he was tonight.

She lets the phone ring a long time before she picks up.

"I'm not sure I want to talk to you," she says quietly and he can tell that she's chastising herself for sending the text in the first place.

"You answered," he reminds her, the slightest bit of provocation in his voice.

"I suppose," she concedes.

She sighs, but gives in and attempts to have a conversation with him.

"Where are you?" she presses, "It's loud."

"Party," he lies easily, and, in that moment, he decides that he's wholly forgiven her, because, seriously? He's an asshole.

"Are you having fun?" she questions, and he hears the silent accusations in her voice, though her tone is neutral.

"I keep thinking about you," he states, and at least that part isn't a lie.

"What are you thinking about?" she asks, sounding genuinely curious. She has obviously been doing a lot of thinking in the past couple of days.

He laughs. "Do you even have to ask?"

She sucks in a breath when he calls it "making love," because he never has before. Not willingly. She had explained to him once that whereas she understood that sex really had nothing to do with love, she had only had sex with him, and so they were one and the same to her.

At the time, he had teased her good-naturedly, never admitting to her that he fully approved of her logic.

He's pretty sure she knew.

They've been talking for a good half an hour when she abruptly concludes with, "I just wanted to say I miss you," as if things hadn't been almost back to normal between them for the entire duration of their conversation.

"Rach," he almost begs, "Don't go."

"Go home, Jesse," she says after a while, "I'm going to bed."

II.

By Thursday, Rachel thinks that the universe is rooting for her and Jesse to reunite.

Mr. Schuester calls her into his office after school, and she knows it can't be good.

She's perplexed when he hands her a small card with a fleur d'elise printed on the front, explaining that it was "the result of the posters."

She has no idea what that means, but it soon becomes apparent.

The note is written in slight, slanting cursive, and signed Georgina Brewster.

_Dear Ms. Berry, _

_Forgive me if this seems a little odd to you, but allow an old lady some of her particularities. I came across the Mckinley High Glee Club concert posters yesterday, and imagine my surprise when a little further research turned up the singer from the Mattressland commercial last year. I have wanted to tell you since then that your voice was one of the most pleasant things that I have heard in all of my eighty-four years. For months, I could not get that Jump song out of my head! I was excited to stumble upon your treasure trove of Myspace videos, which my granddaughter and I enjoy together. We will both be in the audience to hear you sing next Friday and look forward to meeting you. Thank you for making this old woman's days a bit more happy and putting some JUMP into her step!_

_Sincerely, _

_Georgina Brewster_

Rachel can't quite believe that she's holding her very first piece of fan mail. She keeps re-reading it, over and over. There are tears in her eyes.

"Do you think you are going to respond to her?" Mr. Schue asks unnecessarily, bending over Rachel's shoulder to read Georgina's words again.

Rachel is already contemplating busting out her newest collection of gold star stickers, and including a CD of some of her self-declared greatest hits in the envelope.

Instead of explaining all of this, she nods, and Mr. Schue seems to understand.

"That's not all," he states quietly.

Rachel brushes her eyes with her hand, thinking there couldn't possibly be more.

Mr. Schue picks up a list from his desk. "This is a list of all the people who have called to donate to the glee club," he says quietly, and Rachel can tell he is in awe. "If all this plays out, we won't have any trouble affording Nationals this year. A fabric store in Columbus agreed to donate whatever we needed for costumes."

"And," he continues, taking a deep breath. "I know you're probably headed to NYU, but there are a group of scouts coming from the music programs at Ohio State and the University of Illinois. It will be a great opportunity for some of you kids in glee club if they see something they like."

After his pronouncement, they look at each other for a long time in mutual disbelief. Glee might be a group of thirteen kids, but it has always meant the most to the two of them.

Rachel can't seem to find the right words, so she nods at Mr. Schue and turns to leave.

He, however, seems to finally be finding the right words. "I don't like being told that I don't know how to run my glee club," Mr Schuester admits reluctantly, "And I have never been Vocal Adrenaline's biggest fan, but I guess I have to admit that they may have been right about this."

She can tell who he is referring to, and she's glad that he doesn't say either of their names, because it means they can both ignore it for the present.

She turns to leave again, and again he stops her.

"He's the one, isn't he?" It only takes a minute for her to read through his cryptic question, to remember a time she thought she would never recover from the heartbreak, only she knows now that it was just embarrassment.

She hadn't known what heartbreak really was.

_"You should know that there's some boy out there who's gonna like you for everything you are, including those parts of you that even you don't like. Those are gonna be the things he likes the most."_

_She wonders why she and Mr. Schue can only have moments like this when they are alone. She thinks they can be a lot alike sometimes. Still, she doesn't completely trust him. _

_"I think so," she says plainly while staring at the floor. _

_He nods. "I think so too."_

_III._

She kills it at the concert, and before she is halfway through the second line of the song she knows that she has won.

Honestly, she doesn't care that Geraldine and her granddaughter are there, or those college scouts, or even that Shelby is likely lurking somewhere backstage. She sings for the person that isn't there. The person that had respected her wishes not to contact her until she was ready, but had still sent her a gorgeous bouquet of flowers anyway.

She had picked the song, and the blue dress to accompany it specifically for him, and she means every word.

She doesn't have any doubts about that anymore.

Today I took a walk up the street  
And picked a flower and climbed the hill  
Above the lake

And secret thoughts were said aloud  
We watched the faces in the clouds  
Until the clouds had blown away

**And were we ever somewhere else  
You know, it's hard to say**

And I never saw blue like that before  
Across the sky  
Around the world  
You've given me all you have and more  
And no one else has ever shown me how  
To see the world the way I see it now  
Oh, I, I never saw blue like that

**I can't believe a month ago  
I was alone, I didn't know you  
I hadn't seen or heard you're name  
And even now, I'm so amazed  
It's like a dream, It's like a rainbow, it's like the rain**

And some things are the way they are  
And words just can't explain

Cause I never saw blue like that before  
Across the sky  
Around the world  
You've given me all you have and more  
And no one else has ever shown me how  
To see the world the way I see it now  
Oh, I, I never saw blue like that before

**And it feels like now,  
And it feels always,  
And it feels like coming home**

I never saw blue like that before  
Across the sky  
Around the world  
You've given me all you have and more  
And no one else has ever shown me how  
To see the world the way I see it now  
Oh, I, I never saw blue like that before

Oh, I, I never saw blue like that

Kurt hugs her as soon as she leaves the stage, and, quite uncharacteristically, doesn't say anything when she cries into the Dolce jacket he's explained to her a thousand times that he bought specifically for tonight.

"That was beautiful," is all he says, and she swears he may be crying too.

She watches Santana perform next, the last of the girls, and she high fives her friend as she comes off stage. Rachel tells Santana that she was amazing, which isn't a lie, but they both know that Rachel was better.

The curtain comes down for intermission, and Kurt peaks out to wave to Blaine, who blows him a kiss in return.

Santana snorts and rolls her eyes, but something inside Rachel breaks at the affectionate gesture.

Santana catches on quickly enough, and rests a comforting hand on Rachel's shoulder. "You'll be in New York in a few hours," she consoles.

"I know," Rachel confirms, and smiles, thinking of the St. Berry Valentine's Day lovefest that was now officially back on, even if Jesse didn't know it yet.

She can't help but dwell on Jesse's absence, so she wishes Kurt luck before leaving him in Blaine's capable hands and heading outside for some air.

She's awestruck at McKinley's parking lot because she has never seen it this crowded before. She can already tell that this concert will be a whole new beginning for the New Directions.

It's cold and Ms. Pillsbury arranged a bake sale for intermission, so the parking lot is deserted, except for the lone figure making his way to an all too familiar black SUV.

"Jesse," she calls suddenly, piercing the darkness.

He stops immediately, and she can tell that he hadn't wanted to be discovered.

She sprints across to him as much as her boots will allow, and she's reminded, briefly, of when she raced towards him on that ill-fated day with the eggs.

"How did you know I was here?" he asks, sounding somewhat disappointed that his stealth had not paid off.

She hadn't really known, she had hoped, but she hadn't_ not_ known either.

She's not wearing a coat and he instinctively runs his hands up and down her arms, pulling her in and keeping her warm.

"Because I would be here if it were you," she answers honestly.

He runs a hand through his hair wearily and he seems impatient with her. "I wanted to give you your time and your space."

She can _just_ hear the sarcasm in his voice.

"I'm done," she says definitively. "I was going to meet you in New York tonight."

"You're done?" He shakes his head at her uncertainly. "I think I'm going to need more than that."

"I've got it all planned out," she confesses, "I promise everything will make sense tonight."

Finally, he meets her eyes. "I dare say you've got this competition in the bag. Brilliant choice of song."

"Full of emotional depth," she assures him.

He looks away, but she sees the small smile before he hides it.

She scolds him playfully as she nestles further into his warmth.

"I can't believe that you would leave without telling me that you were here!"

"I know you Rachel Berry," he explains, "Even if you didn't care today that I wasn't here, you would have cared someday."

He kisses the top of her head. "Happy one month anniversary. Now let's get you inside before you freeze to death. Since I'm staying, I might as well watch Finn Hudson get his ass handed to him."

* * *

_**I am SO SO sorry that this chapter took as long as it did, not to mention my other neglected stories! Every time I think that I may have some free time, something else comes along! I hope you enjoyed it - I promise this is the end of the St. Berry angst, happy is on its way! :-) Next up: the second half of the concert, cheesy love duet, and the NY St. Berry Valentine's Day lovefest! **_


	40. Chapter 40

**This is a long chapter with lots of small parts. It basically wraps up Lima except for one important development. Let me know what you think!**

I.

The theater is still only half-full when they make their way inside, and they manage to steal two relatively secluded seats near the back.

Rachel immediately raises the armrest of the cinema-style seat and curls into Jesse, both of them shifting so that Rachel is practically sitting between his legs.

"Comfortable?" he asks tauntingly into her ear, and, out of spite, she makes one last, almost imperceptible shift, and then giggles at his sharp intake of breath.

She is about to respond with a saucy reply, but the words die in her mouth as they both spot Shelby at the same time. She feels Jesse's fingertips tighten on her hip.

Shelby is speaking animatedly with Goolsby and five other women near the front, and, ever so often, one of them gestures towards the stage. Even with the distance, it's obvious that Goolsby does not look too pleased.

"The woman in red runs that prestigious performing arts summer camp in Chicago," Jesse informs Rachel by whispering in her ear, "The others are from nearby colleges, but I don't remember which ones."

Rachel nods but doesn't say anything, quietly links her fingers with his, and looks down into her lap.

"Rach," he questions, sounding reluctant. She leans back to let him know that she is listening, even if she doesn't answer him, "I need to know if we're okay … about this … about her."

She swallows audibly, and she feels his chin drop onto her shoulder. She had wanted to avoid this until later, when they had more of an opportunity to talk freely.

"I still don't agree with the choice you made to contact her," Rachel explains after a moment, "But I can respect why you did, and I would be wrong if I didn't appreciate some of the benefits that have resulted."

"I sense another but coming," Jesse says, defeat in his voice.

Rachel feels the tears sneaking up on her, and attempts to keep them at bay. "But," she stresses the word, but then almost immediately relaxes when he chuckles, "I am never going to be okay with you and her. I don't trust her and I don't want her in my life in any form. If we're going to be together, I don't want you to have anything to do with her."

The words sound harsh to her ear, and she is glad that she is not facing him, though her heart pounds as she waits for his reponse. She is admittedly a control freak in much of her life, but she would never have imagined trying to control _him_, putting limits on who he could or couldn't talk to. It's an ultimatum if she's ever heard one, and she would hate herself for it if it weren't completely necessary. It doesn't feel like trust, which is what she knows they both want in this relationship, but she also knows that they won't have a starting chance if she's constantly worried about Shelby being in the background. He needs to know so they can avoid another catastrophe like their most recent one.

The lights blink twice and then dim, and, in the darkness, she feels him kiss from her shoulder up to her neck. Then he whispers "Okay," as he bites gently on her earlobe, his fingers tracing circles on the inside of her knee, over her tights. The sinking feeling in her stomach dissipates, and it feels like everything actually is okay.

Finally, indubitably, he chose her.

II.

They keep a constant commentary going throughout the boys' performances, and she is pleasantly surprised that Jesse manages to keep his observations objective during Puck's performance. (He does curse once and calls Puck something obnoxious, but she figures he's entitled to it.)

Mike Chang's impressive dance moves kicks off the second half, and Kurt does _Rose's Turn_ again, which she was nervous about, but she tears up at the thunderous applause he receives from the receptive crowd. Jesse smiles knowingly: the difference a real audience makes is quite startling; something that Vocal Adrenaline never took for granted.

Rachel almost feels sorry for Finn when he is the last to go, because Artie and Kurt were already spectacular.

"And so it begins," Jesse whispers conspiratorially as Finn enters the stage. Finn has chosen _Light My Fire_ by the Doors, and Rachel explains that another Morrison song had been one of his better solo performances in glee club. Jesse snorts in response.

Mr. Schue's input is evident and Finn, wisely, avoids any complicated choreography, but it becomes painfully obvious very soon that his efforts will fall short.

"And that was that," Jesse remarks off-handedly as the applause dies away, and Rachel feels the smallest suggestion of guilt rise in her. "Kurt or Artie?" Jesse prompts, and while Rachel sincerely hopes that Kurt will be her male lead for obvious reasons, she cannot be confident in the results either.

Everyone in the auditorium gets a ballot so that the judges can consider the popular vote when they name the winners. She takes hers from Becky, who is handing them out, and tells Jesse that she should probably head backstage before the results are released.

As New Directions huddles by the curtains, basking in the excitement of a job well done, Rachel remains in front of the mirror of her dressing table, where she quietly and secretly casts votes for Santana and Finn.

She folds the sheet of paper tightly and hands it over to Mr. Schue who is collecting ballots from all the performers.

She votes for Santana because Santana really was amazing, and Rachel knows that the loss of one vote won't impact her chances at the competition in the least.

She votes for Finn because he has no chance of winning. And, because, in some screwed up way, she owes him. The fact of the matter is that she had cheated on him with Jesse, not to mention that she had lied to him during their entire relationship, even if she had been lying to herself as well. But, she firmly believes that, if she had never had Finn, she would never have Jesse. She would never appreciate all the things that she loves about Jesse, if Finn hadn't first shown her that all of the things he lacked were all of the things she needed and wanted in a partner; the things she had ultimately found in Jesse.

With this vote, her debt is repaid. No one will ever know, but in her heart and soul, she no longer owes Finn anything. It's the closure she didn't even know she sought, and she can finally forgive herself for the person she was during that relationship.

III.

She doesn't even attempt to act surprised when she is announced as the winner, because no one would believe her anyway. She does a little curtsy in her blue dress, and winks at Jesse when she finds his eye in the crowd.

Amazingly, the boys' competition ends in a tie between Kurt and Artie. Rachel is grateful because the boys have such different styles, and having two male leads will allow them to experiment with something sensational for Regionals, and, hopefully, Nationals.

Still, it means that Finn has not won, and his future in the club is in jeopardy. The foundations of New Directions have drastically shifted, and Rachel hopes that it is for the best.

Kurt joins her on stage to receive his trophy, and Artie pulls her down into his lap for a victory lap around the stage.

"My boyfriend is here," she admonishes him jokingly.

"He can deal," Artie responds, before his voice gets serious. "Look around you," he says so that only she can hear, pointing out to the audience, "The nobodys are taking Glee club back."

Mr. Schue has arranged a meet and greet backstage for the kids and all the important people that showed up to the concert. Rachel makes a quick appearance, but she really has to go because she and Jesse have a flight to catch.

Santana has just ended what appeared to be a deep conversation with an important-looking woman in a suit, and Rachel catches her eye across the room to wave goodbye.

She ducks into the hallway, lowering her gaze to avoid anyone else, but she literally runs right into Finn as he rounds a corner. He seems to be heading for the exit as well.

"Burt paid the money for me," he says in greeting, "Tell Jesse that he can't get rid of me that easy."

Rachel swallows. "You did well tonight, Finn. You should be proud of yourself, and, even if you're not singing lead, I'm glad that you will still be able to compete with us. You're an indispensable part of the team and I know you will find that swaying in back can be fun too."

"Go to hell, Rachel."

Rachel straightens herself to her full height, looks him in the eye and searches for her most chipper voice. "Actually, I'm on my way to New York for Valentine's Day, so if you will please excuse me…"

She takes quiet pleasure in the look that crosses his face. She no longer feels the need to make Finn jealous, but it doesn't mean that she can't enjoy this. She knows that things will never be good between them, but she's willing to live with that.

She squeezes her trophy as she holds it against her chest and goes to find Jesse. In the end, she's the one that has won.

IV.

Jesse feels like doing a little jig when the concert is finally over and Finn has officially lost, but it would probably clash with the cool, collected image he's attempting to portray. He applauds politely, and winks back at Rachel. Inside, he's turning somersaults.

It takes all of his self-restraint to not find the hulking teenager and rub it in further. He's pretty sure he could put some of his cat-like reflexes to work on Finn's face.

Instead he contents himself with asking the concessionaire for Jujubes, thinking they will be the perfect way to end Rachel's night. Well, before they get to New York and to bed anyway.

Shelby approaches him as he turns to go in search of Rachel. He exhales and shakes his head at her.

She looks disappointed, but not surprised. Still, she folds her arms and waits for an explanation.

"I know that you've done a lot for me," he starts, "And I know that a lot of this, what you did tonight was for her. She might even be wrong about you, but right now its black and white for her, and I can't. I'm sorry, Shelby, but I can't."

He turns and walks in the opposite direction without waiting for a response from his former coach.

They both know that there's nothing else to be said.

V.

Rachel's dads had to miss the concert, but they meet them for dinner in the airport lounge before they board their flight to New York.

Jesse is flying standby again, and the desk attendant bumps them both up to first class as a congratulatory present when she spots Rachel's trophy.

Leroy gives Jesse a host of threatening warnings when Rachel goes to the bathroom, but is all smiles again by the time she returns.

Oblivious, Rachel thanks her dads for letting her go, and kisses them goodbye at the gate.

"Be safe," Hiram whispers in her ear.

"Always," Rachel assures him in the same whisper.

It's midnight by the time they make it to Rachel's hotel, and they are both exhausted.

Still, it amazes them that they are here, in New York, with her dads' permission, a private hotel room, a king-sized bed, and no one to interrupt them.

Rachel pulls back the curtains to welcome the lights of Times Square into the room and they both grin at exactly the same time.

"I know we're supposed to talk," Rachel says tiredly, "But I could really use a shower first."

He wiggles his eyebrows at her and she rolls her eyes in jest. "Alone," she clarifies, "Or we will never talk."

He starts to say that that would be fine with him, but he knows she is right. There's something about her in the shower… Come to think of it, they apparently have a thing for getting it on in the bathroom.

He showers after she does, and, when he gets out, she's got the whole room bathed in candlelight, and there are flower petals strewn across the bed. _I'll Be_ is playing in the background, from where he's not sure.

"Liar," he teases.

She bites her lip and smiles. "Don't bother getting dressed."

She is wearing a silk robe and is barefoot, and he really hopes that this time he gets to see what is underneath.

She walks over to him and starts to undo the towel around his waist, instinctively licking a water droplet from his shoulder as it starts to fall.

"I would never take back any of the time we've shared together," she explains quietly, "But I've always sort of had this fantasy of music, candlelight, and flowers."

"Epic romance," she whispers seductively, reaching up to peck him on the lips.

He reaches for the tie at her waist and undoes the loose knot, but she holds the robe against her body before he manages to see anything.

He can't help but groan.

"We'll talk after?" she questions, furrowing her brow up at him. She wants to make it clear that she's not avoiding his request that they talk, but she needs him right now.

"Rach," he begins, and she smiles because she knows what's coming, "Shut up and get naked."

He removes her robe when she drops her arms, and, finally, his visions of her in purple lace are a reality.

For a few seconds, he just stares at her and she blushes and fights the urge to shield herself from his intense gaze. Normally, his obvious approval would be enough for her, but tonight, she can't help but torture him.

"It's funny," she starts to say calmly as she turns away from him and moves to turn off the remaining lamp. He's still standing over by the bathroom, breathing heavily, discarded towel on the floor: the epitome of male arousal.

"This used to have matching panties, but they seem to have gone missing the weekend you were in Lima. I don't have anything else this color, so I had to go without."

She grins wickedly while holding her arms across the bottom of the tiny negligee, linking them as if to guard what's underneath from prying eyes, and he growls at the contrast between the look on her face and the innocent gesture.

She turns her back to him, and sneaks a peek over her shoulder. He is watching her every move.

"Oh I dropped a petal," she lies, smirking at him right before she bends over.

VI.

"Presents," she whispers sometime early Saturday morning.

"Sleep," he whispers back.

"I can't sleep," she responds, reaching over to turn the lamp on by the bed.

She climbs on top of him. "It was our one-month anniversary and we didn't do presents."

She kisses down his body, removing the bed sheets as she goes.

"You're awake," she says mischievously, and, really, he can't argue with the evidence.

"What did you get me?" she asks in an excited voice, eyes huge and bright.

They had decided weeks ago that they would do combined anniversary/ Valentine's presents. Rachel's only condition was that the exchange happen on their anniversary, because she didn't want to wait the few days until Valentines.

Technically, it's Saturday, the day after their anniversary, so she thinks that she is entitled to her presents now.

"Front pocket of my bag," he tells her, "Just in case I saw you in Lima yesterday. I've been carrying it around for a while." He sits up in bed so that he can watch her go get it.

He missed this: them waking up together after a whole night together, not rushing to put on clothes or run back home. It feels like a real relationship.

She finds the box wrapped smartly with ribbon and then heads to her own bag to remove what he assumes is his present.

She comes back to sit next to him on the bed. "Me first," she proclaims eagerly as she tears into the paper after throwing the ribbon somewhere behind her.

He laughs when she pouts her way through no less than seven layers of wrapping paper, and decides that her penchant for early morning wakeups was well worth it this morning.

"You tortured me last night," he grins, "Consider this payback."

She briefly stops what she is doing to run her hand over where the sheet is guarding his most sensitive area. She raises one eyebrow at him: "Do you really want to go there?"

He shakes his head as she turns back to her present, finally having reached the tiny box that was hidden underneath all the layers.

She's convinced that there must be something else that he's planning to torment her with, so she is genuinely caught off guard when she opens the box and sees the necklace for the first time.

"I love it," she says almost immediately.

"They are infinity hearts," he explains, pointing to the pendant. "Two hearts interconnected so that you never know where one ends and the other begins. They just exist together forever."

She removes the necklace from the box and undoes the clasp.

Gently, Jesse takes the necklace from her. "Whether we're fighting or we're making love," he assures her, referencing the doubts she had expressed in their relationship and using her now favorite term, "How I feel about you never changes. It's all the same."

She holds her hair back and he puts the necklace on her.

"Thank you," she whispers, looking at him with adoration in her eyes. He flips her onto her back and gazes down at her naked form, surveying her from head to toe.

"Absolutely gorgeous," he tells her, and they both know he's not talking about just the necklace.

He kisses her on the lips one last time before he grins. "My turn."

She nods and reaches for the bag that she had discarded earlier. "You have two presents," she states and then bites her lip, tries to explain.

She gives up on the explanation. "Maybe its better if I just let you see."

"The first one is your actual present." She hands him a flat, wrapped parcel that feels like a book. "And because I'm a normal person, it only has one layer of wrapping paper," she says exasperatedly.

His actual present turns out to be a homemade coupon book done up Rachel Berry style, "Divided into explicit and non-explicit favors," Rachel indicates, accompanied by a pocket-sized version of the Kama Sutra, "For inspiration," she grins.

"Is this your nice way of complaining about my skills in bed?" Jesse jokes. Rachel, thinking she has actually injured him is quick to rectify. "No!" she exclaims, "I just thought since we were apart so much, it would help on the phone if we both had diagrams. I bought myself a copy too!"

He starts laughing halfway through her sentence, and by the end, she knows he was joking all along. She smacks his arm and refuses to talk to him.

He flips through her coupon book as she glowers at him. "Good God there are a lot of coupons for blowjobs in here," he teases.

She smiles unwillingly. "You seem to like those," she says quietly.

"I do," he promises her with a large smile on his face, "But now you've got me worried about what happens when I run out of these things…"

They both laugh and her anger at him is forgotten as they kiss.

Things are about to get more serious when she stops him. "There's still part two of your present."

He rolls off of her and settles himself on his back, rubbing his hands together expectantly.

She smiles down at him, but doesn't immediately hand over the envelope in her hand. "This isn't exactly a present," she clarifies, "But its something I needed to give you."

"Okay," he says, sensing the seriousness of her gesture.

"You don't have to read it now, but I want you to at some point." He nods.

She takes a deep breath. "After you egged me, I doubled up on my therapy. Dr. Grey came up with a helpful suggestion. He said I should write you a letter and say everything I ever wanted to say to you, about how much you hurt me. He thought it would help me to get it all out. I was never going to send it. It was just a way for me to let what happened between us go."

He rubs a hand down her back soothingly, encouraging her to go on.

"Once I started writing, it was hard to stop. It has everything. There's a lot of bad in there, but there's also a lot of good. I want you to know what you mean to me. What you've always meant to me."

"Thank you," he says simply, still rubbing her back.

She nods. "I read it over this week. It's going to be hard for you to read, but I want you to read it."

She drops the envelope onto his chest and gets comfortable again in bed.

"Sleep," she whispers, reaching over to turn off the lamp on her side of the bed.

After a few seconds, he reaches over to turn the lamp nearest him on. She is snuggled against his chest and he can feel her smile against him as he opens the envelope.

"Rach, this thing weighs a ton," he jokes quietly.

She kisses his chest and gets comfortable, drifting off while he begins to read.

* * *

_**I am going to miss this story when it ends!**_


	41. Chapter 41

I.

Rachel wakes up feeling a little disoriented because she can't tell what time it is. The curtains are open, but it's raining and the gorgeous view from their twentieth floor hotel room is covered in fog.

She looks towards Jesse's face and sees that he didn't turn his light off before he went to bed. He's still asleep, but in what looks like an uncomfortable position: sitting up against the headboard, several pages of her letter clutched in the hand that lies against his stomach.

He looks so cute when he's sleeping, and she can't help but brush his curls back from his face and plant a kiss on his lips. He shifts in his sleep and mumbles something about bees, but doesn't wake up. It might be the most adorable thing that she's ever seen.

She spends a moment simply being thankful that she's here, and that they (read: _she_) didn't ruin their first Valentine's Day together.

She finally catches sight of the alarm clock to her left, and realizes that the continental breakfast that comes complimentary with the room will be over in about ten minutes. Without thinking too much about her appearance, she drags on his shirt from last night and her pajama pants from her bag.

When she gets back, he hasn't moved a muscle. For once, she thinks she will let him sleep late, and deposits the plates of fruit, bagels and spread that she has brought back on the table by the television.

"Rach?" she hears him call out after she's been soaking in the tub for a while. She yells back to him that she's in the tub, and is surprised but pleased when he enters the bathroom without knocking and promptly plops down on the bathroom mat that she had laid out on the floor.

"Good morning," he says in a tone that makes it sound as if he's been waiting forever to talk to her. "Good morning," she mirrors.

"My body feels like I ran a marathon this morning," she confesses in a soft voice.

"They're muscles," he explains, reaching to caress her cheek, "And you're still getting used to using them. We'll take it easy tonight."

She blushes, but it still surprises her how natural this all feels. A little more than a month ago, Finn had only ever touched her through her clothes, and she was on track to waiting until she was 25 to have sex with him. Now, here she is, completely naked in the bath, speaking to Jesse about the impact of their night of passion on her body.

She smiles at her thoughts, and he questions what she is thinking about.

"Nothing. Everything. I love you," she sort of explains, with a quick peck to his lips.

He shifts so that he is turned away from her, his back resting against the tub, and he reaches out for her hand to intertwine their fingers.

He raises her fingers to his lips and plants a kiss to them. "I love being here with you like this. No one to answer to… just us."

"Me too," she agrees.

There is silence for a couple of minutes before she asks the question that has been playing on her mind. "Did you read it?"

He nods, squeezes her hand. "Every last word. You are incredible for sharing that with me."

She lets out a breath she didn't even know she was holding. "So… you're not mad?"

He swallows. "I'll admit that some of it was really hard to hear, Rach. And if I'd been reading it alone, I might not have been able to do it. But you were sleeping right next to me, and I knew that this was about healing us, not about hurting me."

She nods, even though he can't see her. "But," he continues calmly, "What is it about Puckerman? You've got me slightly worried about the two of you now."

She sighs loudly, because she knew that was coming. Given recent events, she had considered editing out the part of the letter that talked about her almost kiss with Noah last year, but had ultimately decided that she wanted complete trust between she and Jesse.

"I used to think he understood me," she answers, "Because he always came around when I was down or having doubts about myself, but I realize now that he just knows how to play on my weaknesses, and he takes great pleasure in hurting me. I'm not going to fall for it again."

"I promise," she finishes firmly, and, thankfully, he lets the issue slide. She thinks that he has come to the same conclusion about Noah, probably a long time ago.

"I have some favorite parts," he jokes after a while, "Want to hear them?"

Realizing that the time for their talk has come, she laughs and nods, asks him to pass her a towel. Instead of giving it to her, he holds the towel open and, when she steps in, he dries her off, kissing her lazily as he runs the towel over her body.

"Jesse," she warns, because she won't be responsible for what does or doesn't happen if he doesn't stop, and they really should have this conversation that they've been putting off.

She literally pushes him away and raises an eyebrow at him. "Go make coffee," she orders, pointing back out towards the room.

He presses one last kiss against her lips and says "Yes, dear," in a fake condescending tone before he retreats back into the bedroom, leaving her to get dressed.

Their room has a little sitting area by the window, and when she comes out of the bathroom, he's got the food she brought up earlier and two steaming mugs of coffee nicely laid out on the coffee table.

He waits for her to get comfortable in one of the armchairs before he begins. "So you've had a crush on me since you were twelve? Why didn't you ever tell me that before?"

He smirks at her, and she rolls her eyes. Of course he would start there.

"Because I didn't want you to think that I was a stalker or something." Rachel laughs, "But you were amazing at that holiday concert in the park. Even my dads thought you were cute. When we actually met for the first time, I couldn't quite believe it. I was a little starstuck."

"Oh my God. You're Jesse St. James, lead singer of Vocal Adrenaline," he mocks in a too girly voice, but then grins.

She laughs too, but then shoots him a curious look. She realizes that since she's bared her heart and soul to him, she deserves some honesty in return.

"What did you think the first time you saw me?" She asks the question, but then distracts herself with her bagel to feign indifference in the answer.

He smiles encouragingly at her. "I wasn't expecting that huge voice to come out of you," he answers honestly. "I thought you were hot, but even more than that you intrigued me. I wanted to know what else you were hiding. It's why Shelby's request was … _appealing_ on multiple levels."

The way he says the word appealing outweighs his mention of Shelby, and she actually manages to giggle, confident in the fact that her boyfriend wanted her, even then.

"If I had known there was any chance that you wanted to talk to me after everything went down, I would have called," he says out of nowhere. "I just assumed that after we egged you, you wouldn't want anything to do with me anymore. You have no idea how many times I drove by your house just to see if you were awake…. I stopped doing it when I saw Finn's car in the driveway."

He's referring to the part of the letter where she confesses to waiting by the phone for him to apologize after the egging. She had thought that if she had meant anything to him at all, he would have at least called, emailed, something. If he had called, she knows that she would have absolutely forgiven him. She had explained in the letter that that was when she had truly given up hope, and it had broken his heart to read it.

"Maybe this wasn't such a good idea," she says softly, because hearing him talk about things that are in the past is only making her depressed, and they are already way past all of this.

What's more: they're happy.

He ignores her request, and starts to read aloud the part of the letter that had almost made him give up and stop reading last night.

_Finn told me he loved me. I didn't have to do anything and I didn't have to say anything back. I didn't have to work for it or hurt for it. Later, he kissed me and promised me that we would be together forever, and it was all so simple. He could say it to my face and all you could do was make me promises in my room and then throw eggs at me and laugh at me in front of your friends. Maybe this is what I have to do: be with someone who loves me more than I could ever love him. I know now that the other way around is absolute torture. I hate you, Jesse, for making me feel this way even after you promised not to hurt me. Maybe you didn't love me, but how could you ever do that to someone? How could you have kissed me and almost slept with me when you knew that you were doing all of it for her? _

She cuts him off, because hearing him give life to the anger she had felt last year is almost too much for her. "This was from last May," she explains unnecessarily.

"I know." He looks at her confused, because he thought that this was what she wanted.

"The thing I really hated was having to pretend to everyone, especially Finn, that I hated you, when I didn't hate you at all. I couldn't. I hated what you did, but not you." She puts her mug down and moves to sit in his lap.

He smirks at her, but the effect is diminished when his arms automatically wrap around her. "Shall we just move to the happy part of your letter, then? All the 'lost' inevitabilities that I robbed you of, just like Hubble?"

She nods at him. "I think this makes me more upset than it makes you," she says in an ironic tone. "Of course."

He drums his fingers on her bare knee before he continues. "Living in New York, leading roles, Tony awards, and … babies?"

He says the last word teasingly and she hides her face in his shirt. "You were never supposed to read this," she reminds him. "You're ignoring the takeaway. Stop focusing on the details."

"And what's the takeaway?"

She pauses and plays with the collar of his t-shirt, rubbing her knuckles against the skin of his chest.

"You're**_ it_** for me," she admits softly, tilting her head up to look into his eyes. "You always have been."

He reaches up to grasp her new necklace, twirling the infinity heart pendant between his fingers.

"You're all I ever wanted," he half-sings, half-coos in her ear, "And my arms are open wide."

She heeds his prompt and settles deeper into his embrace, smiling. "Glad we're on the same page," she responds jokingly.

Ten, maybe twenty, minutes pass in almost silence. They've said what they need to say. She's sitting in his lap, he's holding her, and she thinks that's all she will ever want or need. Then, he tilts her face towards his and starts kissing her, and then, okay, the kissing is good, too.

After her shower she had put her dress, but not her tights, on. It wasn't meant to be an invitation, but he runs his hands up her bare leg and under her dress and she can't find the words to complain.

He shifts her suddenly so that she is straddling his lap, and with another abrupt movement, he's out of the chair, lifting her, and directing them both towards the bed.

"Jesse," she says, almost laughing, as he deposits her on the bed and starts to take off his shirt.

"I want to, I really want to, but I honestly don't think I can again." She tries to make her tone sound serious, but her unexpected amusement at the situation is winning out. "We could go out, walk around, get some actual food…"

She is met with his smirk. "I thought we would practice our foreplay," he responds cheekily, "You know how I feel about perfecting technique."

He climbs over her on the bed, and presses a kiss to her lips. It's meant to be seductive, but the effect is ruined when his stomach growls, and it makes her giggle harder.

"Jess," she bursts out laughing, "You're hungry. You hardly touched your breakfast, and you need to eat something."

He raises one eyebrow at her, and it suddenly dawns on her exactly how he interpreted what she just said.

"That's what I had in mind," he says, feigning irritation, "I want…"

She puts two fingers to his lips to silence him, and rolls her eyes at the wicked grin he gives her.

"Fine," she says resignedly, pretending as though she isn't about to experience one of her favorite things in the world, "Just don't finish that sentence."

II.

They're running late, so they grab a late lunch to go on their way to the studio.

She's glad that at the last minute she had decided to swap her dress and sensible heels for jeans, a long-sleeved t-shirt, and sneakers, because, due to their eventful morning, they literally have to run through the streets of New York to make it to the studio in time.

It's okay. If she's being honest, she had chosen the dress and the heels with Meg in mind, and the jeans are more reflective of the girl who is confident in her relationship, and has nothing to prove to anyone.

The fact that Jesse says he loves her legs in these jeans doesn't hurt either.

The rest of the Coppertones are already gathered in the studio's lounge when they walk in hand in hand. Meg stops mid-sentence when she sees that Rachel is with Jesse. He himself hadn't known she was coming, much less had the opportunity to tell them.

"What is she doing here?" Meg asks, not even trying to hide the derision in her voice. "We have work to do."

"Those of us non-leads will have a lot of downtime while we record," Jesse states calmly, but pointedly.

"We brought snacks and games," Rachel adds in her sweetest voice, smiling around as she dumps bags on the coffee table in the midst of the couches. "That's why we were late."

"Chill, Meg," one of the boys shouts from behind a girl seated in his lap. "Miriam and her boyfriend have been sucking face since we got here."

Jesse puts a box of wine next to Rachel's stuff and rips into a bag of potato chips. "Dig in, guys."

He winks at Rachel before continuing, "I'm famished."

Rachel is surprised that she actually has a good time, but she does. She had planned to stay near Jesse all afternoon, but she gains confidence amongst the easygoing group, and spends time talking to almost everyone. She's at least two years younger than everyone else, but she certainly doesn't feel like it.

They don't get to the background vocals for a while, so most of the group plays Uno and Apples to Apples and snack constantly. When she is not playing, Rachel tries to get to know some of the girls, and she ends up deep in conversation with Lexi and a newly-liberated Miriam, both of whom idolize Barbra Streisand almost as much as she does.

Meanwhile, it's a whole different arena in the recording room itself. John is choking under the pressure, and Meg is almost apoplectic, yelling at both John and the music director in order to deliver some kind of result. They have reserved the studio for the maximum six hours today, and three hours in, they have only managed one satisfactory track out of nine.

Jesse is also enjoying the chill vibe in the lounge, but he is highly tuned in to the meltdown that is happening in the next room. At one point, the yelling overpowers the party atmosphere, and everyone gets quiet, listening to the frustrated words of the musical director.

Rachel is in one corner of the sofa speaking quietly with Lexi, and he meets her eye across the room. She raises both eyebrows at him and bites her lip, and he knows that she is thinking the same thing that he is: _Crash and Burn_. He nods at her, though neither of them has said anything aloud, and she is all the way across the room.

"St. James go put them out of their misery," Brad complains, giving voice to what the entire room is thinking. "As fun as this is, we're wasting a perfectly good Saturday here."

Jesse would love nothing more than to pull a showstopper out of his back pocket and demonstrate exactly what they are missing out on. However, after his discussions with Rachel, he agrees that the best way to proceed is to play it cool and confident. No one here has any doubt about his talent; Meg just needs to get over her ego.

"Meg made her decision, and you guys went along with it," Jesse states matter-of-factly. "This is what you wanted."

He sees Rachel's small smile across the room, which she tries to hide behind her hand.

"Cut the bullshit," Brad bellows, "We all know what this is really about."

Jesse shrugs casually and reaches for a cup. "It's still out of my hands."

Some of the other Coppertones are about to join in the debate, but the door to the recording room slams open, and John stomps out of the studio. Meg's irritated voice follows him out of the room.

The rest of the group looks around at each other. The only movement is Rachel patting Lexi's knee and whispering to her that she should go after him, after which Lexi walks quietly out of the room, tucking her hair behind her ears.

After a couple of words with the music director, Meg walks out of the recording room and grabs a bottle of water, but doesn't say anything to anybody before she too leaves the room in a huff.

"I guess that means its break time," Micah states jokingly. "Never a dull moment with the Coppertones. Who's going after the queen bitch now that Jesse, I assume, is no longer willing?" He shoots a glance at Rachel and then at Jesse, who laughs.

"Don't look at me," Jesse confirms.

Everyone looks around at each other, but no one volunteers. James starts laughing, and, little by little, each of them joins in.

"Break time it is," Micah reiterates, before he leaves the lounge. The rest of the group trails out after him.

Rachel walks up to Jesse, kisses him lightly on the lips, and reaches for his hand. "Let's go explore," she whispers excitedly.

He's quiet as they wander through the studio, peeking into doors, finally stopping at a room with a piano, a single lamp on top the only source of illumination.

He sits at the bench and runs his hands over the keys. She stands behind him and combs her fingers through his hair.

He sighs loudly. "You still think I'm doing the right thing?"

Rachel considers for a moment. "I think you are getting your point across and no one doubts you, so yes," she concludes. "That being said, I do feel badly that this album likely won't get made today," she adds morosely.

She sits next to him on the bench. "I still had fun, though," she tells him, "The Coppertones aren't that bad, and Lexi is actually really nice."

"I saw you attempting to play matchmaker back there," Jesse teases. "Those two need to get it together."

"They will," Rachel promises optimistically, "But I don't want to talk about them anymore. We might be here for another couple of hours, but it is still the St. Berry Valentine's Day lovefest."

"Play me something," she instructs. He mock glares at her controlling tone, and she gives in with an exaggerated "Please."

"Any requests?"

"Surprise me."

He thinks for a minute, and then smirks up at her. By the look on his face, she's almost scared of what's coming.

He starts to play _Hungry Eyes_ from Dirty Dancing, and she burrows her face in her hands.

****"It's a brilliant movie and you have no right to make fun of me," she starts to defend.

**_With these hungry eyes  
One look at you and I can't disguise  
I've got hungry eyes  
I feel the magic between you and I_**

He starts to sing and embellishes the already over the top lyrics with a dramatic tone and gestures, clearly enjoying himself. It's sensual and almost dirty.

By the time she joins him on the chorus, they are both fighting laughter, yet their voices remain pitch perfect.

He plays the last notes. "And the cheesy chorus fades," he mocks, and they both burst out laughing.

"I owe you for that," Rachel states dramatically. "None of your Queen favorites are safe anymore."

She tries to glare at him, but its too hard once they start to kiss. She's about to suggest something very out of character, but they hurriedly break apart when the light in the adjoining room unexpectedly goes on.

"One more time from the top," someone says authoritatively through an intercom. "This is perfect for an ad campaign we're working on. Tell your friend that if she wants to salvage this album, she needs to include this song."

* * *

_**Sorry this took so long. I just moved and I don't have internet, so things are a bit crazy right now.**_

_** Thank you so so so much to Original Groffette for the brilliant suggestion of Hungry Eyes for the love duet. I wanted a cheesy song that would be good for a commercial, and this fit the bill perfectly and worked well for the story. I still can't decide exactly what food product the commercial will be for... Any suggestions?**_

_**Thank you for reading! I'm not sure yet if the next chapter will be the epilogue or if there is one more before that. Either way, the epilogue I have planned? Epic. **_


	42. Epilogue

I.

New Directions wins Nationals in May of that year, and her duet with Kurt receives a standing ovation from the New York crowd. Having finally seen the light, the club had taken what Artie had dubbed the 'VA route', rehearsing their songs and choreography for months beforehand, perfecting their technique, and delivering flawless performances that finally displayed the talent and heart Mr. Schue loved to boast about, but had never taken the time to cultivate.

She cries and cheers openly when they hand her the trophy, as does the rest of her team, but it is really vindication she feels. Only a week ago she had declined the offer to spend her senior year at a performing arts boarding school in Chicago, a result of the concert back in February. It was an option that her dads had pushed wholeheartedly, wanting to get her out of the toxic environment at McKinley.

Ideally she would have waited to see if they won Nationals before deciding, but she had already stretched the coordinator's benevolence to its limit, and there was nothing else to be done. It's funny how the most important moments of your life often happen to coincide.

After making it clear that she was to take him out of the equation, Jesse had become her neutral ear. The program was undoubtedly an amazing opportunity, but it is her senior year, she finally has friends that make school somewhat bearable, and New Directions was at last on the path to achieving something great. Staying meant another shot at Nationals, and, after all the drama of last year, living her life the way she wanted to. Besides, even if she never explicitly mentioned it to Jesse, boarding school meant a lot less freedom to see him, and she knows she needs him as a constant in her life.

Still, it feels like a much better validation of her decision that they will be defending a National title rather than still chasing one.

After the post-Nationals celebration, she spends the weekend with Jesse, helping him move out of his dorm. Her dads have long given up on the separate hotel room idea, the teens' profound commitment to each other ultimately outweighing Hiram and Leroy's concern.

She doesn't mind. There is a part of her that will always be grateful to this small room, to this twin bed, even if Jesse is more than thrilled to be taking over the lease of his friend's light, airy studio. This was where their relationship had been reborn, where they had admitted their love to one another for the first time; a serendipitous weekend that had spawned a lifetime of love.

She is supposed to be packing, but she keeps getting distracted by memories. Jesse is at the last Coppertones meeting of the year, and even that simple fact is enough to provoke a bout of sentimentality in her. Months ago, she would have made it a point to go to the meeting with him, and she and Lexi would have had fun silently tormenting Meg with their boys on their arm. Yet, when he had woken her up this morning and asked her if she wanted to go, she had only given it a split-second of thought before turning over and going back to sleep.

Not that she doesn't get enjoyment from annoying Meg anymore. The national JELL-O commercial featuring her and Jesse's version of _Hungry Eyes_ had hit the airwaves last month, and it was the headline song on the Coppertone's debut album, with Rachel listed as a featured artist. The album had become a cult hit both on campus and on the internet, and playing the commercial on YouTube never fails to bring a smile to Rachel's face. Needless to say, Meg hadn't been too happy with that little development.

The money they had made from that commercial hadn't hurt either. They had initially planned to save some more and then blow it on a post-graduation trip to Paris, but Jesse and his dad had had a huge falling out over his summer plans, and it had become his financial cushion at school while his parents continued to sort out their legal issues.

Back in the present, she decides to attempt to be productive, and moves to strip Jesse's bulletin board of all the odds and ends attached to it. Her initiative is short-lived, however, because she reaches a picture that always causes her to frown. Valentine's Day weekend, after she thought she had successfully distracted Jesse from their little bet, he had recognized her attempt at subterfuge and insisted he shave his head to uphold his side of the deal.

The slapstick side of him didn't come out very often, but she had witnessed it in all its glory that Sunday morning as she had watched the curls she adored fall to the floor of the barbershop, him insisting on chronicling the event in pictures. After they got back to the hotel room, he had held her face in his hands as he explained to her that she was beautiful, and that he was going to do whatever it took to prove it to her, in spite of her best efforts to 'distract' him.

He walks into the room as she is looking at the picture, using her finger to trace over the hair that thankfully has since grown back. He sets a bag of food down, sees the frown marring her features, and asks her what's wrong. In response, she flips the picture to show it to him, and he legit shakes his head at her and tells her with a smile not to start.

She grabs one of the cartons of food and sits Indian style on the bed as, in typical boy fashion, he simply unhooks the bulletin board from the wall and dumps it along with all of its accessories callously on top of an open box of clothes she had spent about an hour folding. She bites her tongue, and pops a vegan spring roll into her mouth, having learned early in their relationship to choose her battles wisely.

"We should carve our names somewhere," she says, the idea occurring to her suddenly. She surveys the almost empty room and decides on the underside of the shelf above the desk, grabbing a pair of scissors as her tool of choice. "I feel like we need to leave something."

She does the initials and he does the heart. It's cliché, but perfect.

"We'll leave one in your dorm room, too," he says, despite the fact that that moment is about two years in the future. He winks at her. "We'll leave our mark all over this town."

She chides him for his corniness, but inside she's praying that he's right.

II.

They break up because it is inevitable, because college changes people in ways that they don't see coming, and are powerless to stop.

By the time she gets to NYU, Jesse is in his junior year. They had decided against living together her first year, much to Hiram and Leroy's relief, because she didn't want to miss out on the traditional college experience just because they were together and attended the same school.

Despite the fact that they are finally in the same place and they still share the innate similarities between them that have strengthened their bond for years, now they have completely different priorities. He spends his time religiously attending small, crappy off-Broadway shows and "networking" with theater people while she concentrates on making friends and discovers the freedom that comes with a lack of parents, the ability to choose her own curriculum and become the master of her own time.

At first, he humors her, but the frat parties and the freshman escapades no longer interest him, though they surprisingly now appeal to her. The third time she turns down her girlfriends' invitation for a fun night in favor of trekking to a ratty theater in the East Village for a subpar production, she explodes at him in the subway, telling him that they should take a break and figure out if being together is still what they both want.

Their fights have evolved over time, changing from Shelby and the remnants of that debacle, to more routine couple issues like spending time together and putting each other first. At least in this way they have grown. This particular fight is becoming somewhat habitual, but this time she really means it, turning away from him when they finally reach their stop, and heading back to her dorm.

Her new friends don't spend much time comforting her after the breakup, which makes sense because they were the ones that encouraged her to do it in the first place, though not in so many words. The whole world was her oyster here, they would tell her; there was a whole world to discover outside Lima and Jesse no longer had to be the only good thing in her life.

She had hated being branded as the girl with the BMOC boyfriend, the girl who would never hang out because she was already spoken for, the girl who always had somewhere else to be. Sometimes it felt as if she was back being Finn's girlfriend, dying to break free of a label imposed by others, a label that slowly suffocated her, taxing her every breath.

Jesse had always done his best to convince her that once she left Lima she would see how willing the world would be to embrace her, but witnessing it for herself is an entirely different matter. It's obvious now that guys find her attractive and want to sleep with her, that she's smart and witty, and a complete catch.

Santana comes down for the weekend to cheer her up and to finally meet the friends that Rachel has been telling her about. They are both amused that guys flock to Rachel at the frat parties she can now attend without guilt, showering her with mostly unwanted attention, groping her whenever they feel like they can get away with it.

She's not interested – it's too soon she tells herself – but one Saturday night she finds herself alone, standing against a wall, when some guy drags Santana away to dance. She's grateful that Chloe comes over to check on her, but any promise of company is erased by the fact that Chloe tells her that there are a ton of cute guys at the party, and she should go see if she can find herself a boyfriend.

It hits her then that the rest of them are all here for the same reason: they desperately want what she had been so hasty to give up; what they had been selling as independence, thrill, and self-discovery was just an effort to mask what she remembers as loneliness, self-doubt and the shameless need for attention.

Santana must catch sight of her face, because, before she knows it, she's being dragged outside. She has done a pretty good job of convincing everyone that she was fine post-Jesse, but the façade is crumbling. She lacks the energy to pretend anymore.

She is hyperventilating as she starts walking, Santana almost running to catch up with her, and at one point keeping her from almost being hit by a car. She can tell that Santana is trying to get her attention, but Rachel ignores her, and finally the ex-cheerleader snaps, grabbing Rachel by the shoulders and shaking her.

"Rachel!" Santana demands, "I don't know where we are."

It takes a while for Rachel to get her bearings, but she soon recognizes a familiar alley that Jesse had forbidden her to walk alone at night.

Her feet and mind are plainly complicit in automatically directing her to a safe place; towards him.

"Our apartment is around the corner," she finally manages to explain.

It takes Santana a while to realize that Rachel isn't talking about her dorm.

"This isn't a good idea, Rachel. Take some time tonight, and you can talk to him in the morning."

"No," she says, shaking her head intently.

She wants to be done with listening to other people; with allowing others to dictate the way she lives her life. She just wants him. She wants him to scream at her and yell at her, but most of all she just wants him to take her back.

Across the street, a cab drops a group of partygoers in front of an apartment building, and Santana glances back and forth between Rachel and the cab, finally informing her friend that she was heading back to Rachel's dorm, and wishing her good luck.

Rachel spares a second of remorse for being a terrible hostess, but then she is finishing her journey and letting herself into the studio apartment with the key that she could never bring herself to return.

He's asleep, but jerks awake when she slides into bed beside him.

"Hi," she whispers, watching as he raises his head so that he can look at her. She attempts words, something deep and profound that will forgive her actions, but what comes out is: "Can we just forget the last two weeks ever happened?"

He sighs, and she knows that they will have to have this out tomorrow, but for now, he opens his arms and lets her snuggle up to him.

He kisses her hair, and can't help but whisper cockily. "What took you so long?"

III.

A couple of weeks into _her_ senior year at NYU, he screws up so magnificently she can't even believe it. He's singing one of the songs from an Off-Broadway show he just got cast in loudly in the shower when Caroline calls his phone and asks about his travel plans for the funeral tomorrow.

His father's funeral.

She wastes no time in marching into the bathroom and shoving the shower curtain back, not even caring when water splashes everywhere.

"How could you not tell me that your father died?" Her tone sounds a lot less threatening than she feels, because she can't come up with one explanation that would make what he did okay.

He shrugs his shoulders. "What does it matter? Serves the asshole right."

Her mouth drops open at his response, and she struggles for words.

She knows he and his father hadn't spoken in about five years, and that they parted on less than happy terms, but despite how he feels about his dad, the fact of the matter is that he had known about Vincent's death for a week and hadn't told the woman whom he shared 500 square feet of space with, and, who he claimed to love.

Tears well up in her eyes, and, without a word, she closes the shower curtain, walks out of the bathroom, and out of the apartment.

Two days later, she finally comes home. She's wearing a plain black dress he has never seen before, and slips off new shoes by the door before joining him on the couch where he sits staring at the television.

He hasn't shaved or opened the blinds since she left. Knowing her so well, he had immediately assumed where she had gone, but it still hadn't stopped him from waiting impatiently for her to return.

"Daddy went with me," she begins to explain, laying her head on his shoulder. "There weren't many people there, mostly other businessmen. Everyone was asking about you." She pauses pensively. "You were right; your dad was kind of an asshole."

He snorts, which is so unlike him that it makes her smile.

She sighs heavily, and he looks over at her, sensing that there is something else. She pulls his hand into her lap and intertwines their fingers, turning her head to plant a kiss on his shoulder.

"I think you have a little sister," she tells him quietly. "No one said anything, but Caroline was really pissed off at her mother throughout the ceremony, and, well, it's kind of obvious. Her name is Gabi, and she's 8."

He nods agreeably, not knowing what to do with that information. He can't say that he's surprised, really, but knowing that there is someone out there that his dad probably screwed over just as much as him is unsettling.

"You should have told me that he died," she states softly, but confidently. "I don't like to think that you're keeping secrets like that from me."

"I know." He shrugs away from her and stands up, walks over to the window, and tries to process all that is happening.

"How mad at me are you?" she questions, sensing the tension in his demeanor, the way he holds his body.

She sighs again. "I know I shouldn't have walked out like that, but Jesse he was your dad, and, after everything I went through with Shelby …You don't get to choose your family, you know?"

He sits on the coffee table, facing her, and runs his hands up her thighs, over her dress. "Rach, I'm not mad."

She sniffles, and wipes at her eyes with the back of her hand. He rests his hand on her cheek and turns her face to him. "Really. I'm not mad," he repeats, then tilts his head, considering, "I just disagree."

She nods forlornly without looking at him, so she completely misses the smile on his face.

"Marry me."

Her eyes snap towards his, and she looks at him in disbelief, because she hadn't expected that, doesn't understand the abrupt shift in conversation. "What?"

"I disagree. You _can_ choose your family, and you, Rachel Barbra Berry, are the only person I would ever want as part of mine."

He slides down onto the floor in front of her, and scrounges for the ring box where he had left it in the crevice of the couch, waiting for her to get home.

"I know we've always said that it doesn't matter, and we don't actually have to do it, but I needed to ask. I need you to know how much you mean to me."

He takes a deep breath, opening the box to display the ring at the same time he asks again:

"So, will you marry me?"

Later, after Jesse is asleep and she has spent hours on the phone with her dads and then Kurt, she is doing the standard 'gaze at my ring in the moonlight' gesture, and she finally notices the tiny engraving on the inside of the gold band.

J.s.J. infinity hearts R.B.

She leans over to kiss him lightly on the cheek. She thinks that sums it up quite well.

IV.

She's got her suitcase open on their bed, packing almost reluctantly for another campus visit when Jesse walks into the room.

Sensing her thought process, he encircles her waist from behind and kisses the back of her neck. "Providence isn't that far away."

"It's not New York," she counters.

"It's a four hour train ride. We'll deal. I've heard somewhere that Brown is a good school," he jives, "Plus, Gabi loved it there."

He lets go of her waist and tosses a box of condoms into her suitcase.

She sputters, finally settling on laughter. "I'm sorry, are you planning on getting it on while your children sleep next to us in the hotel room?"

"They're for Bron. You should give them to her."

Rachel turns around and gapes at her husband.

He raises his eyebrow at her. "Do you remember what we did the weekend you visited NYU?"

She rolls her eyes at him, because she can tell that he's partly doing this just to get a rise out of her.

"The same thing we did last weekend," she deadpans. "Bron's not going to do anything like that. She's fifteen, Jesse!"

"And you were, what? Sixteen and a couple of weeks? Face it, Rach…"

"I will not. She's staying in a girls' dorm and it's only for one night."

"I may be getting up there in age, but I seem to recall that you had a female host and somehow you still ended up in my bed…"

Rachel narrows her eyes. "That was different."

He's up for the challenge. "How so?"

"We had history. Do you think I would have just done that if I hadn't been completely in love with you at the time?"

He fights a smile. "I have my doubts. Didn't you already have a boyfriend that weekend? Weren't you supposed to be a pillar of chastity and virtue?"

She turns back to her suitcase. "I hate you, and I am sleeping with the girls once we get to Providence."

He attempts to play around some more, but she stops him, telling him that she has too much to do. Not only is she chaperoning a dance for their younger daughter's summer camp tonight, his little sister, Gabi, is getting married in Providence in two days, and they leave early in the morning.

Since the whole family was coming to the wedding, Gabi and her soon-to-be-wife had gone to the trouble of setting up a campus tour for Bronwyn, because their older daughter only had one criteria for a college so far: that it not be in Manhattan.

"Why is she so intent on getting away from us?" Rachel questions him, "When we were her age, all we wanted was to live here."

He kisses the top of his wife's head. "I'm guessing she doesn't want to go to college in New York when both of her parents are famous Broadway stars," he offers. "She wants anonymity and freedom. That's not entirely different from what we wanted."

"I suppose."

In fact, his explanation makes perfect sense. Bronwyn was one of those people that Rachel had spent her entire adolescence trying to understand, to the point where she thinks that someone, somewhere is having a lot of fun watching her and Jesse raise this free-spirited child.

At age fifteen, Bronwyn has no definite career goal, but is amazingly good at whatever she attempts. She plays soccer, she draws well, she gets good grades, she even sings, but she still doesn't know what she wants to do with her life, except that she doesn't want to do it here, with them. She's a far cry from the Rachel Berry who had her dream roles picked out at the age of four, and had all of them offered to her at some point in her career.

"Look on the bright side," he tells her. "At least we know that Liv is staying here."

Olivia, unlike her older sister, was a born dancer. They had panicked when, as a baby, she had refused to crawl, until Jesse had discovered that she would rock back and forth on beat whenever music was played, each time with the biggest smile on her face. She had been dancing ever since, and, even at the age of twelve, Julliard was a foregone conclusion.

"Just give them to her," he says, motioning to the condoms. "I would feel better if she had them, even if she doesn't use them. Actually, I would prefer if she didn't use them."

Rachel laughs along with him, turning to bury her face in his shirt. As if on cue, Bronwyn comes waltzing into the room, asking Rachel to borrow a dress to wear to the movies tonight.

Rachel's not exactly thrilled. Bron already has a good four inches of height on her, and always seems to choose the dress that would have caused even high school Rachel Berry to blush.

Rachel tosses the small package at her daughter with a smile. "Your dad bought you condoms for your trip to Brown."

"Really, dad?" Bron asks jokingly, "I was hoping for a car."

"We'll talk about the car when you've _gotten into_ Brown," Jesse specifies.

"But seriously, just because you corrupted mom doesn't mean that I'm going to jump into bed with the first guy I see."

"Ouch," Rachel yells playfully from the bathroom mirror, where she has now started doing her hair.

"And," Bron continues in a devious tone, "Shouldn't you be giving these to Liv? Isn't she the one that's going on the date with Finn tonight?"

Rachel puts her curling iron down and shoots a disapproving look at her daughter from the bathroom, letting her know without words that she has gone too far this time. She often recognizes in her children the same tendency she and Jesse used to have of lashing out at each other when they were insecure or hurt, and she often feels hopelessly helpless in response.

"His name is Flynn!" Liv yells, walking angrily into the room, "And it's not a date. It's just a dance."

Flynn had been the hot topic of conversation after last week, when he had asked Liv to go to their camp dance together, the similarity of his name to Rachel's high school boyfriend reigniting an old family joke. Rachel's Finn was currently the high school gym teacher back in Lima and on his fourth wife, who no one, Kurt included, was sure was old enough to drink.

Rachel remembers waiting up for Jesse to come home from his show so that she could tell him about Liv's first date. His automatic response to the poor kid's name had been, "You're kidding, right?"

"Mom, dad, can we please leave Bron in Providence?" Liv asks cheekily, shooting her sister a mean glare.

"Only if we can leave you too, Scout," Jesse jokes before addressing Rachel. "Then we can go back to life without kids, Rach. Do you remember how great that was?"

"Hey! It's not our fault that you two had hungry eyes and couldn't keep your hands off each other," Bron protests, referencing the now infamous song that JELL-O still continued to use in its advertisements to this day.

Liv giggles despite her previous anger at her sister, and it causes all of them to laugh in response.

Liv starts singing the song, but, thankfully, Rachel gets them back on track since they have only about 45 minutes before they have to leave.

Instead of returning to her room, Liv approaches Rachel in the bathroom, asking in a small voice. "Mommy, can you help me with my makeup?"

Rachel feels her heart swell with affection as she looks at her twelve-year-old daughter, who is clutching a handful of Bonnie Bell lipsmackers and some electric blue drugstore eye shadow.

She settles Liv onto the counter of the vanity, and rifles through her own make-up kit. Rachel tells Liv to close her eyes, and takes a second to gaze at the innocence of her daughter's face before applying a light layer of powder.

_This_ is what she had always wanted. Even though she had had to wait until giving birth to her own children to experience the mother/daughter relationship, it had been completely worth waiting for, easily the greatest experience of her life.

It seems like forever ago that she was pregnant with Bron, debating her relationship with her own mother as she approached parenthood herself. When Bron was about two weeks old, and a lot of the chaos had died down, Jesse had walked into the nursery to find Rachel crying hysterically while rocking the baby to sleep. Throughout her pregnancy, she had schooled him on the signs of postpartum depression, and he had panicked and tried to take the baby from her and calm Rachel down.

It had taken a while to explain to him that she wasn't depressed; she just couldn't understand how Shelby had been able to give her away, to hand her to someone in exchange for money and an agreement never to see her again. Holding Bron in her arms that night, there was no worse thing that Rachel could imagine. Shelby's fate had been sealed that night, and though there had been occasional visits and lunches over the years when Shelby visited New York, Rachel knew that there was no going back. She had long made peace with the reality that she had two dads and a Jesse; had come to terms with the fact that that would always be enough for her.

"Did Papa and Granddad teach you how to do this?" Liv asks with her eyes still closed. The girls have always been fascinated by the fact that Rachel grew up with two dads and no mom.

"No," Rachel admits. "Uncle Kurt tried to teach me some stuff, so I just did everything he told me not to do."

Liv giggles, and Rachel proclaims her done. She glances shyly in the mirror. "I'm really nervous," she admits to Rachel. "What if he doesn't like me? Or he can't dance?"

"He already asked you out, which means he does like you," Rachel comforts her, and hopes she is telling the truth, "And you can always teach him how to dance."

Liv jumps down from the vanity and skips back into the bedroom, where Jesse is packing his own clothes for the trip. "Daddy, do I look okay?"

Jesse glances at Rachel, who is leaning against the door of their bathroom, just as interested in his response.

Jesse takes his daughter's hand and twirls her so that her dress flares out as she spins. "You look absolutely beautiful," he tells her. "Flynn," he says, making sure to stress the correct pronunciation of the name, "Is so lucky to have you as his date tonight."

Liv smiles all big and bright, and bounces out of the room to go and show her grandfathers her dress, and her sister her makeup.

Jesse shakes his head at Rachel from across the room and she beckons him over to her with a wave of her finger.

"Hi," he jokes, kissing her on the lips, "You needed me?"

"Always," she responds.

She asks him to help her choose something to wear tonight, and he follows her into her walk in closet, where she strips down to her bra and panties.

He helps her choose a simple black and white dress, and he's zipping her up when he asks out of nowhere: "You'll keep an eye on them, right?"

Rachel turns and wraps her arms around his neck. "I promise."

It's been a tough week for him, she knows. On Sunday, he's walking his kid sister down the aisle, Bron's visiting college for the first time, and Liv has her first date, with a boy named Flynn, no less.

"You know," she teases, "It's still not too late to try for a boy."

Jesse laughs. "I can't tell if you're joking about that anymore."

It's true to an extent. It used to be a joke between them, ever since her dads had shown up unannounced one weekend when the girls were little and treated them to a weekend alone in the Bahamas. All they wanted in return, her dads had said, was a grandson. Instead, she and Jesse, quite comfortable with their family just the way it was, had come home that weekend with a puppy that Liv had insisted on naming Baryshnikov.

But, last year, Kurt and Blaine had finally gotten their shit together, fifteen years after they first broke up, and adopted a little boy, Aden, from Ethiopia. His toothy grin made Rachel's uterus ache for another one of her own, but she knew in her heart that their family was complete.

Now that the girls were older and her dads had moved in with them, she and Jesse were doing shows at the same time for the first time in years. Things they had long forgotten about like dressing room sex and late night cast get-togethers were possible once more, and despite the temptation that Aden provided, she was rather enjoying this stage of her marriage and her life.

"No," she admits quietly, "I'm happy with the way things are."

"Yeah?" he asks, tracing the place where her hip meets her thigh, and the tattoo that lay hidden there.

Bron had been two when her inquisitive hands had snapped Rachel's favorite necklace clean in half, causing tears from them both.

Rachel had declined Jesse's offer to buy her a new one, professing that it wouldn't be the same. Even now, the sacred infinity heart necklace had a place of honor next to the girls' baby teeth in a box in her closet.

Still, she hadn't been able to resist the temptation to have the sign with her somehow. She vividly remembers the night she had surprised him with it; how he had looked uncomprehendingly from the tattoo to her face, before lowering his head in a reverent kiss when the scope of what she had done finally dawned on him. That night still gives her goosebumps, and she is positive that that was when Liv was conceived.

"I'm sure," she confirms, smiling at him. "There's no emptiness inside. You've already made all of my dreams come true."

* * *

_**That's all she wrote, folks! I want to thank all of you who have read and reviewed this story! I have loved every minute of writing it, and have so appreciated your feedback and your words of support and encouragement. I hope this epilogue met your expectations.**_


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